Somewhere within the Castle of the Two Sisters, among the wild greens of the Everfree, there is a hallway. It is much like the other hallways inside that ruined keep; dim, littered with stone rubble, yet still possessed of a stately air.

At the end of this particular hallway is two doors.

The left is a broad, garish thing of painted oak. Winding floral designs crawl across the door's face, and carved pixies and satyrs play among the leaves. The knob is round and brass, somehow still bright after so many years of tarnish. Above this door, etched into the stone is a single word: Joy.

The right is smooth and flat, seemingly carved from a single slab of granite. There is no design on its face, save for a single, thin line engraved precisely two and a half inches from the door's perimeter on each side. Etched above this door, again, a single word: Grief.

Each door leads to the same room.

The Prompt: Choose one of the following:

Choice is an illusion.
or
Choice is an illusion.

This is a thirty minute writing prompt, meaning you have thirty minutes to finish your story from the time you start writing. You may take as much time as you wish to think, plan, or outline before you begin, but once the first word is on the page, the timer begins. When you are finished, post your story to this thread, and, in the tradition of the TMP mods of yore, I will read and give it a comment when I can.

Traditionally, TMP prompts would have a six to eight-hour window in which to submit, but for these legacy prompts, there will be no limit after the prompt is up. Go ahead and post something a year from now, if you like. Just bear in mind that I'm less likely to respond with feedback to anything submitted more than a week or so after the prompt. Good luck!

Sorry I haven't been posting stories to the other prompts. Been having trouble working up the writing juices.

4896432
Though somewhat grim flavor text, I did like the two options being played like this. Well done.

4896432
Legacy Prompt no.64, Untitled (TMP64) by KwirkyJ

Every rock has its planes of cleavage. A place where the application of force will cause it to fracture or split. Even the most sturdy, stalwart, and stubborn will, to the right touch, be reduced to pieces. Or dust.

Some have multiple lines, and are easily broken. Some are indestructible against all pressures but one.

It is not a matter of choice, where and how to strike with a hoof to split a boulder, but of perception. One must find the line.

Ponies, too, have such planes. Pinkie taught me, before the shadow fell upon the land. The right words, the right deeds, done at the right time, can fracture even the most steeled pony.

It was inevitable, then, that I would fight alongside her.

My family was pressured, and I broke.

But the pieces of me can protect her better than the whole me ever could.

Author's Note:
I'm not going to formally protest by not participating, but there was a recent writeoff event that did almost this exact same idea, but with the more open-to-interpretation phrasing of "Illusion of Choice." I wish to create another, better response to this prompt, but don't hold your breath.

4897525
I beg your pardon, but in response to your Author's Note, I have to ask this: Why does that matter? This is TMP, not that write-off group. Had you not linked to that page, I'd never have known, nor cared, about the existence of that competition; I suspect that some of our other members are in a similar position. What, specifically, does it matter if one of our prompts happens to be similar to something someone else has done or is doing?

I recognize that tone doesn't always carry in text format, so I'll make this specific: I am honestly asking why you feel that this matters, because I cannot understand why you considered it important enough to make an explicit note of it, and wish to become better informed.

4899009
You might have asked privately, but, since it is here, I will try to clarify.

Repetition of a prompt (or similar in idea or phrasing) is not necessarily bad, and indeed it is good to be challenged from time to time. As the latest in a series of particularly demanding prompts, however, I (unfairly) seized upon the moment to voice some exasperation. Implied in my author's note was that I felt this prompt to be very confining. Because of the phrasing, "Choice is an Illusion," it was difficult to break away from the core idea, as in the flavor text, of any choice being inconsequential, and struck me as being in some ways anathema to the spirit of MLP.

I mentioned the previous event as a counterpoint to the phrasing used for the prompt. "Illusion of Choice" has the same idea at its core, but -- I posit -- avails itself more readily to broader themes such as illusion, misdirection, misunderstanding, and purpose. Perhaps a less literal interpretation of the prompt, or rethinking how to use it to inspire a story, would allow for greater creative freedom, though neither was present in my mind at the time and remain difficult to enter still on account of my being a peculiarly uncreative pony.

(Maybe also mentioned to show off, 'look, I did really well in the competition with some saccharine fluff!')

I maintain that everything I meant to articulate is present in my note, however oblique.

4897525 Whoop! I had no idea the writeoff had done the same thing. I was just trying to poke fun at the number of multiple-choice prompts we've run of late (of which I am just as guilty as anyone). I suppose these sorts of coincidences are bound to happen once in a while.

The story is brief and terse and rock-themed, just as any story Maud would narrate. This appears to be a reference to the Sombra-flavored bad future in the finale. I wonder what happened to pressure Maud along her fault line?

Good job!

4896432

Geez, what's with the low number of responses to TMP lately? Every prompt gets like one or two stories, tops. Getting kind of weak out there. Also blah blah this didn't go like I liked blah blah thought it would be more interesting than it ended up. I'm still posting it anyway!

As grand and sparkly as Twilight Sparkle's castle was, it did lack some of the refinement and luxury of Canterlot Castle. Princess Twilight say comfortably enough on the little plush cushions that Rarity had chosen to decorate this study with, but she knew they were nowhere near the quality that her guest was accustomed to. Still, she also knew that Princess Celestia wouldn't have been upset to have this visit while sitting in the dirt at Sweet Apple Acres.

Even so, Twilight found herself squirming a bit on her cushion, trying to get more comfortable.

Princess Celestia's voice was calm and measured. "The cushions are lovely, Twilight. Thank you for inviting me to your castle for tea."

"Of course, Princess. And... thank you." Twilight didn't voice what she was thanking the older alicorn for, but she seemed to understand anyway.

A moment passed, before Princess Celestia set her teacup down with just the quietest 'tink' against the table. "What is it that you want to ask me, Princess?"

Twilight Sparkle found herself blushing. She fought it back as best she could; there was no reason to be ashamed that the Princess knew it wasn't purely a social visit. "Well... I..." Twilight paused, took a breath, and then let it out before continuing. "Princess Celestia, do you remember, just before the incident with Tirek-"

Princess Celestia's brow knitted slightly at the memory. Twilight continued, but more carefully.

"It's not about the fight, Princess. I'm just curious about... well, your visions of the future."

The tension left the Princess immediately, and Twilight found herself calming at the sight as well. Princess Celestia smiled down to her former student, and spoke with the same calm elegance Twilight had come to expect. "Of course, Princess Twilight. What do you want to know?"

Twilight smiled as well. "Well, the vision you described of Tirek sounded like it was happening at the same time. But you do get visions of the future, don't you? How do those work?"

Princess Celestia looked down into her tea, and then sipped at it before setting the cup aside again. "I often get visions, so to speak, of the future, yes. They nearly always come true."

"Nearly always?" Twilight felt her magic rising through her horn, she wished she had a scroll and quill to write this down. "So the future is set? You can't change how things happen?"

Celestia smiled down at Twilight, and something about the look seemed a little strange. "Usually. Nearly every pony in Equestria reacts as they do in the vision, and trying to avoid the result almost never works."

Twilight hesitated, and then tried to force some confidence into her question. "You keep saying 'nearly', and 'usually'. There are exceptions?"

"You, Twilight Sparkle."

Twilight froze. After a moment, Princess Celestia gave a quiet giggle, and Twilight blushed and calmed herself. "Me? I'm the exception?"

Celestia leaned in and nuzzled Twilight affectionately, and Twilight settled down, trying to stay calm. Princess Celestia straightened up again and smiled. "Yes, Twilight. One of two. I cannot predict Discord, either." Celestia's hoof tapped Twilight's wing to silence the next question. "No, you are not the same as Discord. But there is something special about you, Twilight. I did not predict your magical release that brought about your cutie mark, for instance, and..."

Princess Celestia's voice trailed off at the end, and she paused before speaking. "Before I sent you to Ponyville the first time, I saw my sister's reign. You had been... hurt, trying to protect me. You had changed minor things about the visions in the past, but that was the first time I tried to change the prediction entirely."

Twilight stared up at Celestia. "I... your visions showed her winning? But you told me you knew I could do it!"

"I did. I believed in you, Twilight, more than I believed in prophecy. You did win, as I knew you would. You are the only pony that can affect the future like this, Twilight. No matter what I try to do, everypony else always leads to the same future."

Twilight looked down at the floor, her eyes darting left and right as she thought over everything. "So... everypony else's future is set? They don't make choices, or have free will?"

Celestia's quiet chuckle dissipated the tension as it always did. "They make choices, Princess Twilight. It's only that their choices are always the same as I've seen. Yours are not. You have wondered why you and your friends are so important to Equestria. Now you know, or at least you know a bit more."

"Just Discord and me? Does he know about this?"

Celestia's smile changed slightly. "I believe he knows, Twilight. Discord can see even better than I, and yet you continually surprise him. I believe that's why he is so... fixated on you."

Twilight sighed, laying down on her little cushion, implications and questions swimming through her mind.

The quiet 'tink' of Celestia's empty cup being set down brought Twilight out of her oppressive mood. Celestia smiled at her. "Now, I believe your friends are planning to surprise us by inviting us to lunch."

Twilight smiled, and stood up from her cushion, the sound of hoofsteps in the hallway outside confirming what Celestia had said. "... Is everything going to go well?"

Celestia stood as well, and started toward the door before Twilight's friends could find them. "Who can say?"

4896432

Legacy Prompt 64: Caterpillar Decisions

“I’d think I’d like your opinion, Miss Sparkle.” Chrysalis leered as she spoke. “Tell me, honestly: What do you think about my choice of decor?”

Anger Twilight glared at the changeling queen, fighting down the urge to spit. “My friends,” the alicorn said, jabbing her horn toward the Applejack and Fluttershy in their cage, a cage suspended from one arm of some bizarre balancing scale in the middle of the cavern, “are not your decorations.” For the fourth or fifth time, Twilight tried to flex her wings and legs against the green mass holding them down, fighting against the soreness in her sides and back without success. For a brief second, her horn glimmered, dying as the suppressor ring on it sparked.

Chrysalis put on a badly-exaggerated pout. “Aww, you don’t like it? I’m so sorry. Hmm,” she said, faking a thoughtful look, “it is a bit bland, isn’t it? Perhaps you’d prefer it in pretty pink and bright blue?”

Focus Despite the sudden burst of anger at the implied threat to her absent friends, Twilight shook her head, concentrating. “The Princesses will know where we were when you captured us,” she said at last. “You’d be better off letting us go than trying to keep us.”

“Silly little mare,” Chrysalis replied, smirking, “what good would that do me? I want to keep you.” She peered toward the ceiling in mock thought before continuing. “Well, actually, I want all of Equestria under my control, and Celestia bowing down at my feet. But keeping you is a good start on that, don’t you think?”

Reply “No,” Twilight said, the words acidic, “I don’t.”

“Oh, fine,” Chrysalis said. “Back to the negotiations, then.”

Question “What negotiations?” Twilight asked, suspicion dripping from her tongue. “You captured us, then refused to tell us anything.” For a brief instant, Twilight felt as though she should say something else, about something else, unimportant but it slipped away, leaving her without the desire to follow. “What kind of ‘negotiations’ could you possibly want to undertake?”

Chrysalis laughed, a disturbing mixture of her normal mockery and genuine amusement. “It’s quite simple, my dear Sparkle. I’ve something I’d like to take from Celestia, and you can give it to me.”

Reject Twilight shook her head, snarling. “There’s nothing you could ask for that I’d be willing to give you,” she growled out.

Chrysalis once more pouted. “Never?” she asked, before swapping to a manic grin. “Not even for the sake of your friends?”

Test Once more, Twilight tried to snap open the green mass holding her wings down. It almost seemed weak to be cracking a bit under the pressure. Cover “What do you mean,” she asked Chrysalis, trying to hide her actions.

Chrysalis smiled, an actual smile despite the apparently permanently-ingrained sneer. “I’m offering you a choice, Sparkle. A two-for-one deal, shall we say?” One hole-ridden hoof swept upwards, toward the cage on the balance. “Your friends mean nothing to me, Sparkle. I’ll gladly let them go, but in exchange, you will be my apprentice.” The same hoof swept towards the other, apparently empty side of the scale. “Or, I could do as you asked, and let you all go… but if I do,” she said, leering maliciously, “one of you will belong to me.”

Challenge “So either I stay here, or you replace one of my friends?” Twilight laughed. “No thanks.” Escape Twilight grinned as the green began to flake, straining her sore back and wings even more. Third path “How about I make an offer of my own?”

Chrysalis looked over at Twilight, her eyes lidded in apparent boredom. “Oh,” she yawned, “what might that be?”

Now “This,” said Twilight, flexing one last time. The green crust over her burst into pieces, freeing her wings and legs. Release Twilight lifted her hooves to her forehead, snatching the suppressor ring and freedom lifting it off in a single smooth motion, smiling as she felt power her magic surge back to life. A second later, a blast of magenta energy tore through the air, scoring Chrysalis across the side and moving on to leave a black mark on the far wall.

Ultimatum “You want a deal? Then how about this? You allow me and my friends to depart in peace. In exchange, I won’t blast the head from your body.”

“You’re bluffing,” Chrysalis said, although her face gave lie to the words. “You don’t have the heart for it.”

Negate “You’re wrong, Chrysalis,” Twilight said. “After what I’ve been through, I’m quite willing to do what it takes to protect my friends.”

The emotion behind the words must have gotten through; Chrysalis swallowed, swallowed again, then nodded. “Very well. I will permit you to leave. For now.”

Falsehood Twilight stared. “Right, just like that.” Her lips pulled back in a snarl as she continued. “I think I need to get some insurance of that.” Oath Her horn lit and her eyes went white. “Mareid’s Sworn Oath should do the trick. You can’t renege on anything you agree to under that spell.”

Chrysalis’s eyes went wide, far wider than Twilight would have thought possible, then narrowed, and the changeling queen let loose a laugh. Not a mocking chuckle or sneering ‘heh’, but a true, heart-felt laugh. “You,” she said, “are going to use a mind-control spell on me?” The laugh became even louder, more genuine. “Congratulations, Sparkle, you’ve earned my respect.”

Pleasure Twilight’s lips began to quirk into a grin, something that cease ended almost immediately. “No, Chrysalis,” she said, “I’m not falling for your tricks.” A blast of white light rocked from Twilight’s horn, enveloping Chrysalis and leaving a pearlescent corona around her as it faded. “Swear that you will allow my friends and me to go, without any further interruption.”

Chrysalis grinned. “I swear,” she said.

Loophole “In those words,” Twilight barked out. “Exact words!”

“Fine.” Chrysalis looked as though she were going to be ill, but she continued. “I swear that I will allow you and your little friends to leave. Further, neither I, nor any soldier of mine or servant of mine within this hive shall interfere with you.” She looked over towards Twilight, glaring. “That’s the best you’re getting, Sparkle. Any of my changelings outside the hive I can’t control until they return.”

Agree “So be it,” Twilight said. Finish “I accept your oath.” The pearlescent light around Chrysalis blazed white, then collapsed. “Now, get my friends out of those cages.”

“Nice try, Sparkle.” Chrysalis sneered. “Your spell means I can’t stop you from leaving. It doesn’t mean I have to help you do so.”

Frustration Twilight grimaced. “Whatever.” She looked upwards, contemplating the cage. Below “Fluttershy, grab Applejack!” Twilight’s horn began to glow as she continued. ”I’m going to pull the bottom of the cage out from under you!” Actions matched words, and within a moment, the two imprisoned ponies had been freed. “Let’s get out of here, girls.”

Before they could step out of the room, Chrysalis called out. “Just for the record,” she said, “my earlier offer to you still stands, Sparkle.”

Ignore Twilight refused to say anything, instead heading for the exit to the chamber, Fluttershy and Applejack hot on her heels.

Several hours later, the trio arrived back in Ponyville. They did so in style; once free of the changeling caverns, Twilight had managed to teleport them to the nearest town, and had arranged for a private railcar on the way back.

As the group stumbled onto the platform, Fluttershy looked up toward the sky. “Oh, I really ought to be getting home,” she said. “I’m sure Angel’s getting very worried about me.”

“You do that, Shy,” Applejack said. “I reckon I probably oughta do th’ same; let Granny, Mac, an’ Bloom know everything’s okay.” She looked over at Twilight. “And you, Sugarcube?”

Sleep “I’m probably go, go, goin-” the word was cut off as a sleep massive yawn broke out in Twilight’s throat. “Sorry,” she said sheepishly, “I think I’m just going to go home and” sleep “hit the sack.”

Applejack nodded. “Fair ‘nuff. See ya in the morning, Twi.” Without further ado, the three went their separate ways.

Time Limit

Once inside the castle, Twilight made her way to her bedroom. She flopped down on the bed, and was snoring within moments, clearly dead to the world.

Which is why it might have surprised an observer, had there been one, that she rose from the bed only ten minutes later. Her eyes were glazed, her movements sluggish at first, but they gradually became more firm as she stepped over and shut the door, sealing it with a burst of magic, then walked back to the mirror on the wall. Another thread of magic hit the mirror, and in a matter of minutes, the scene within was no longer a reflection of the bedroom, but the view of another bedroom. Exactly whose was made obvious when a green-eyed, black-chitined head popped into sight. “Sparkle! What are you-”

Twilight shook her head. “Did you think I’d contact you when anyone else could see? Including Sparkle herself?” She smiled, a grin that resembled that of a stalking timberwolf. “You can drop the act.”

Slowly, ever so slowly, a similarly predatory grin grew on Chrysalis’s face. “Very well. I take it everything is going as planned?”

Twilight nodded… or, at least, whatever was controlling her did. “Very much so. Neither poor Twilight nor her friends suspect a thing.” She laughed. “‘Oh, that offer’s still on the table’,” she said, half-mockingly. “Really pushing it, weren’t you?”

“It was true, you must admit,” Chrysalis replied. “One of them is my loyal spy, after all… aren’t you, Chidra?”

Chidra laughed. “Always, mother. And thank you for that little charade back home; I was able to get a fair bit of practice directing Sparkle’s actions.” She smirked at her mother. “I mean, she honestly thought Sworn Oath was her own idea!” A sudden thoughtful look, almost a fearful one, ran across Twilight’s stolen face as Chidra paused. “That… that was acceptable, wasn’t it?”

Chrysalis smiled. “Don’t make a habit of it,” she said, “but under the circumstances, yes, that was acceptable.” This time, Chrysalis paused before continuing. “I hope you’re all right with this,” she said at last. “You’re trapped as a larva inside her. You’ll never mature now, Chidra. Never be a proper changeling, always stuck with one body.” Chrysalis’s smile was almost sad as she continued. “I’d have named you my heir, daughter. Another could have served this role.”

“But none so well,” Chidra returned. “Besides, I may be stuck with one body, but that body belongs to Princess Twilight Sparkle. I believe I’ll be able to make do, mother.” She lifted one hoof in salute. “I’m afraid I need to go now, mother… but I’ll keep your request in mind.”

“Request?” Chrysalis looked honestly confused, and Chidra laughed.

“Of course. To see Celestia at your feet. And at the hooves of her own protege, no less. May that thought give you pleasant dreams, mother.” Chidra yawned, then shook her head. “Sparkle’s weariness is telling on me. I need some sleep myself if I’m going to lead her mind around when she awakens. Fare well, mother.”

“Fare well, my daughter.” The image in the mirror faded, and Twilight Sparkle’s body settled back on the bed once more.

Author’s Note: The title and concept of this story are derived from the Glyptapanteles wasps. These wasps lay their eggs inside caterpillars. When the larvae are ready to pupate, they will eat their way out. But not every larva emerges; one or two will stay inside the caterpillar, forever abandoning their chance to mature. In exchange the caterpillar, apparently acting under the remaining larva(e)’s control, spends the last of its life as a bodyguard, protecting the pupating wasps from predators.