Self-Fulfilling Prophecy

by daOtterGuy

Star

“Beware the fates, my Star.”

Starswirl harrumphed and looked askance, a rail-thin foal uncomfortable with the company they found themselves with.

His mother, a skeletal mauve unicorn wearing a mourning veil that hadn’t come off in literal years, stuck far too close to him as they trotted toward his new home at the Unicornian School for the Gifted.

He had finally managed to make it to those hallowed halls at the top of his enrolling class. His tuition was fully paid off by the remainder of his late father’s and older brother’s inheritance. The prior being an act of karma, the latter enough to break his mother.

The problem of dealing with her would soon not be his.

“They will only bring you harm,” his mother, Farsight, continued. “They will lead you astray. Veer the course of your destiny away from what it is meant to be.”

“I can discern the usefulness of the crones myself, mother,” he spat out.

“Listen to these warnings, my Star. Our family has lost much to their whims.”

“Yet, they have granted me passage out of these slums.” And away from you, Starswirl silently added.

“They grant as much as they take. You will be great, I have no doubt in this, never have, but—” She whirled on him, gripping his shoulder. Hard. He squirmed painfully. “Don’t let baseless visions lead you away from what you are meant to achieve. Become the Pillar you are meant to be.”

She stared at him with milky eyes, her pale blue iris piercing the veil to peer down at him like stars in the sky. Judging him. Controlling him. He felt fear envelop him as he looked back at eyes that saw too much. It was suffocating.

“Don’t forget,” Farsight whispered.

He couldn’t decide if it was a threat or a reminder.

All at once, she let him go. Unwilling to be in the company of this horrid mare any longer, he began to climb the steps of the school, body hunched defensively to hide from his mother’s gaze.

“I love you, my Star.”

He paused mid-step. Proper etiquette required a response, nevermind that, despite how little Starswirl wished for it, she was his mother. But he remembered the filthy box apartment they had lived in. How much it had degraded as she continued to refuse help from him and everyone else, wallowing in her piteous misery. She couldn’t function without him and fully expected to hear of her passing within a month. He found it difficult to feel bad about it.

Despite this, he had a moment of yearning to turn back. He foalishly thought that maybe he would see the mare who had been, the one before all the tragedy thoroughly broke her. When she had been a mother and not a walking corpse.

But that’s all it was, ultimately. Foalish.

He continued ascending the steps toward his destiny. He deigned not to look back.