You Open My Book
You open my book.
You were a teenager. Not quite a foal, yet certainly not an adult yet. A student — did you come to the library in order to study? You carried with you a set of saddlebags bearing a copy of your cutie mark. Good saddlebags. Well-made saddlebags. You must come from an affluent lineage — are you perhaps a noble? Do you go to Celestia’s school?
You peered into my book and flipped through my pages until you found whatever section you were looking for. What are… oh! Teleportation magic. Very impressive! You begin pulling out your supplies while I step out to greet you.
You look back at my pages and are surprised to see me. “Was that there before?” you mutter under your breath. I wave my hoof, and you jump back with a yelp, nearly falling back out of your chair. I stifle a giggle as you take a moment to let your racing heart slow down.
You gape in shock as I grin up at you from the pages of my book.
“This is so cool… Did somepony enchant this book?”
“Nope! A good thought, but I am not an enchantment. I am just as much a living, breathing pony as you are. Well… not breathing, I suppose, but living all the same.” Your eyes pore over me as you study my book. You poke and prod, looking at my book from every angle before glancing around the library. Nope, nopony is pranking you. There are no tricks here.
“My name is Princess Twilight Sparkle,” I said. “But please, just refer to me as Twilight.”
I tilt my head and give you a kind smile. You stammer as you struggle to find your voice. “Princess Twilight Sparkle!? What are you doing here? Why are you in a library book? How are you in a book?!”
A grin tugged at the corners of my lips. “Have you, by chance, ever heard of Haycartes?” You shake your head. I nod towards your quill, and you grab a hold of it in your magic, a giddy grin plastering your face. “Almost four hundred years ago now, there was a little-known magician named Haycartes who revolutionized many of the fields of magic. Now…”
You listen with rapt attention as I describe the history of Haycartes, his discoveries, his theories, his spells, and his influence on modern magical theory. You write down what looks like thorough and detailed notes, hanging off every last word I tell you. Fascinating. Not many foals would listen to such a boring lesson such as that, much less be as engrossed in it as you were. It’s nice to meet such a good student for once!
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of Haycartes before. A lot of his ideas are so fascinating.”
“Sadly, his name has been scrubbed from his works. Not a lot of ponies know about him unless they study magical history itself.” I said. “I’m impressed at how interested you were in learning about him; you must be top of your class at Celestia’s school for gifted unicorns!” I clop my forehooves together in praise. Instead of beaming with pride, you instead wilt at my words. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Princess—“
“Please, just call me Twilight.”
“I’m sorry… Ms. Twilight. It’s just… I’m not a student at Celestia’s school. I wasn’t able to pass the entrance exam.” Dew seems to tug at your eyes as your body curls in on itself.
“You didn’t pass the exam? But you’re the most clever pony to open my book to date. That will not do. That’s just wasted potential.”
“It’s not wasted potential, Prin— Ms. Twilight. I really am no good at magic. I can study theory just fine and also know how spells are supposed to work. It’s just… when it comes to actually performing magic I just… I’m just no good.” You begin to hyperventilate. “P— ponies at school pick on me all the time. I— I can barely even cast a basic levitation spell. Anything past that is just… hopeless.”
I pursed my lips. No good at spellcasting? That’s no good at all. That can’t be true at all. "Well, I think Celestia’s school is missing out on some serious talent. Execution is just a matter of practice. With some tutoring, you’ll be outperforming your classmates in no time.”
You shake your head and give a wan smile. “I don’t know Ms. Twilight. I really am hopeless when it comes to casting magic. I wanna be a great magician, but I’ve given up on actually performing magic.” I don’t believe for one moment that you don’t have the ability to cast magic. “But, you see, even if I’m no good at casting spells, there’s nothing holding me back from crafting them myself.” You visibly perk up. “That’s even what my cutie mark is!” You turn your flank to show me your cutie mark. “Isn’t it wonderful?"
“Sure,” I said. “But I don’t think that you should give up so quickly on spellcasting. No unicorn can’t learn to cast spells with a bit of practice and proper teaching. I really believe that you have the potential to be as great a spellcaster as you are a spellcrafter.”
“Thanks for the praise, Princess, but I really… really don’t know if I agree. I’ve tried so hard for so long…”
“I could teach you myself.”
“What!” you yelp. You look around at the angry glares from everypony around you and mutter out an apology with a sheepish grin. You lean in closer to my book, stars glimmering in your eyes, and whisper. “What do you mean you’ll teach me? Does this mean… I’ll be your personal student?”
“Why, yes. I’ll teach you everything you need to know. I’ll make a magician out of you yet.”
“So this is your room?” I ask. Your room is somewhat cluttered, but still rather clean. Cleaner than I was expecting a child like you to have; you must really be organized for your age. A bit smaller than I expected. You are not nobility, but your family is clearly doing well for themselves.
“Yep!” You beam proudly as you point at various knickknacks and keepsakes. “So what do you think, Ms. Twilight?”
“You have good taste, nicely decorated! So… do you want to get started with studying?”
“Of course!” You frantically pull your supplies out of your saddlebags and lay them on your desk. Finally, somepony who appreciates studying and working hard. Somepony with the potential to grow into a talented magician.
“Alright, let’s start off by covering—“
“Sweetie, I’m home!” A mare’s voice calls out.
“Oh, Mom’s home! I’m sorry, Ms. Twilight, but we better hold off ‘til tomorrow.” You open up your door before pausing and turning towards me. “Wanna meet Mom, Twilight? I just know she’ll love that you’re teaching me.”
“No! I mean… no, let’s just keep this a little secret between the two of us. We don’t want other ponies to get jealous that you’re being tutored by a princess now, do we?”
You scrunch up your face. “I don’t know if I want to keep any secrets from Mom…”
“Please… for me?”
You tap your hoof against the floor before reluctantly letting out a sigh. "Alright, Ms. Twilight.” You flash a grin. “Only because you said the magic word.”
"Hey, Ms. Twilight?”
“Hmm?”
You look up at me from the book you’ve been studying. You’ve made quite a lot of progress these past few months with my help. I knew there was no chance that you couldn’t cast magic. You went from barely being able to levitate anything heavier than a quill to being able to lift furniture with ease. You’ve also begun to branch out into other magical fields. I can’t help but feel very proud of the progress you’ve made.
“I know it’s weird to ask this now. After how long we’ve known each other.” You tap your hooves together nervously. You glance up at me, meeting my gaze, before looking back down again. “Why… are you in a book? Why aren’t you in Ponyville? I’ve read the news. You're supposedly living in a crystal castle there and helping Equestria alongside the rest of the elements…”
I knew the day that you’d ask this question was coming sooner or later. Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t push the question on day one. “I’m… trapped in here.”
“Trapped!?”
“Yeah… there was a bad pony that trapped me in here and took my place, pretending to be me. The pony who says she’s Princess Twilight Sparkle, the pony going out on all those grand adventures — she’s an imposter.”
Your jaw drops. “A— an impostor? We— we need to go stop her. Tell your friends. No, let the other princesses know. Celestia and Luna can fix this, can’t they?” You stammer, pacing in a circle. “They can help you, Princess; we need to go tell them.”
“No, you can’t! You can’t let her get a hold of Celestia and Luna’s power too. That thing… it sealed my magic when it trapped me in this book. It will just use the same tricks on them too. Trust me, they won’t be able to stop it. Our only hope is for me to get out of here. For me to confront it. It’s complacent now, content to masquerade as me for the time being. If it knew that it was in any danger… We can’t let it know we’re onto it. I know its tricks and can stop it. We first need to set me free.”
“How do we do that, Princess?”
“That’s where you come in. I think you have the potential to break the seal.”
“Me? No no no.” You vigorously shake your head. “I am not good enough at magic to help you, Ms. Twilight. You can’t trust me with something so important.” But I must. You are my only hope of getting free.
“You absolutely can and will. I have full faith in you. You’ve already grown so much.”
You hesitantly nod. Fret not — you are certainly going to grow strong enough to break my seal. You have already made amazing progress. I have full faith in you.
I listen in as you eat supper with your mother in the dining room.
Sitting alone in your room while you’re out there living your life is a subtle pain. How long has it been since I’ve been able to taste food myself? Been able to taste anything. Feel anything. Since I’ve been able to feel the dirt beneath my hooves and the warmth of the sun on my back. Since I was even allowed to sleep.
Being with you has been a nice break. No longer forgotten on the shelves of a dusty library. Trapped in a book nopony wants to check out, just waiting for the day that I get the chance to even just look at the outside world. Talking with another pony was such a rare treat. I always looked forward to when I could finally connect with somepony else.
Even if most of those interactions ended after the first scream.
I sighed and laid down. Well, make the motion of laying down — as much as somepony really can while they’re trapped in a book. It’s the thought that counts.
It has been so nice… Talking with another pony. Making a connection with another pony.
Even if I am not free, it has been nice talking with you. Even while I ache for the actual world — actual life — I can’t help but feel thankful for the gift you have given me.
I feel bad for using you. For teaching you magic and building you up for only my ends. Just to set me free. I wish I could have taught you magic on better, more normal terms. As an actual student of mine. Not as somepony who I need to get better just to save me. You have real potential. It’s such a shame nopony recognized it before me.
Maybe I should start a school once you free me. Helping other ponies hone their magic. Fostering connections and friendship. Teaching ponies for the sole purpose of bettering them, not to use them as I am using you.
I think I like that idea. I hope I can live to see that. To do that. I hope you are able to free me. Able to save me. I just wish we had met on better terms.
You lay as still as a corpse, draped over your bed. An untouched slice of cake rests next to you on your nightstand. You keep your eyes squeezed shut, trying to block in your streaming tears as you take deep, rattling breaths.
Happy Birthday.
I didn’t realize how bad things were. I know you said that ponies teased you in school, but I never thought that you didn’t have any friends. That the reason I never saw you bring anypony back to your room was because you had nopony.
With a pang of sorrow, it reminded me of my own youth. How I shut other ponies out of my life.
Of my own volition.
And here I am, pining for friendship. For the companionship of others. For somepony like you. I can’t bear to see you like this. To see you so cut off from your fellow ponies. Somepony as kind and caring as you.
Why did you tell your mother that you’d be going out with friends today? Why did you let her go to work? Why didn’t you ask her to stay — to be with you for today, at the very least?
To just lay there. To just shut out the world and pretend that everything is okay. That is not healthy. How long has this been going on? How long have you been suffering on your own, lying to your own mother about having friends?
I looked down at my body. Twilight’s body. “Hey, is everything alright?”
You turn your head away, burying it into your pillows.
“I know that you’re having a hard time now, but you’ll make friends if you just reach out to ponies…” My words felt like sand. Is this the right thing to say? I’ve never had to help any foals like this before…
“What do you know?” you grumbled. “You’re the Princess of Friendship and pupil to Princess Celestia. What do you know about ponies who just can’t be friends? I don’t want any friends. Friends just take time away from studying. Time learning. Everypony thinks I’m weird anyway. Nopony’d want to be friends with somepony like me.”
“Now that’s just not true. There are plenty of ponies who would be delighted to be friends with you.”
“Like who?”
“I, for one, would like to think of you as a friend.” I paused, realizing that I was speaking with complete sincerity. I… really do want to think of you as a friend. “Plenty of other ponies would want to be friends with you too. Trust me, I’m the Princess of Friendship. If anypony knows friendship, it’s me.”
You sit up, sniffing your nose. “You really think so, Twilight?”
“I know so.”
You rub at your elbow, deep in thought. “Thanks Twilight. I— if it’s alright with you too… I’d also maybe like to consider you a friend too, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course. Now, as the Princess of Friendship and as your teacher, I have some new homework for you.” A shadow of dread crosses your face. “I want you to make friends with some foals your own age.”
“But Twilight—”
“No buts, I expect you to report back to me once you find some ponies that you consider friends. Just be happy I’m not going to ask you to start writing me friendship reports.”
"Yes, Ms. Twilight…”
“Now, the day is young. Let’s not spend all our time cooped up in here. Let’s head on out!”
“Can’t we just study? I don’t wanna head outside…”
“I want to go to the movies.” I said. “Please take me to the movie theater. You can’t spend your entire birthday sitting in your room. And studying on your birthday?” I shake my head. “We are scholars, not wet towels. We can’t stay trapped inside all the time. You have your life, you have to live it.”
Despite your protests, you laughed hard as little cartoon ponies pranced around on the silver screen. You were having a great time.
That said, ponies were giving you weird looks for not only bringing my book to the theater but also propping it open on a seat so I could watch the movie next to you.
You need to find some real friends. You can’t just lean on an old pony trapped in a book like me. It’s not healthy. I don’t even know if I can be considered a pony at this point. I’ve lost so much, taking this form. Can I even claim to have retained my equinity?
I look up at you leaning forward in your seat, happily engrossed in a cartoon the way foals should be. You should have some real ponies for friends. But for now, at least, I’m glad I can be here to help you. Somepony for you to lean on.
“Why were you casting any spell written by Haycartes?”, you croak out. A dusty old book on Haycartes rested between your forelegs. Your face was haunted as you stared at me with shaky eyes.
“What… what do you mean?”
“The things he did…” Your voice trailed off. You flapped your lips as if you didn’t know how to finish your sentence.
“The atrocities he committed? The unethical experiments he ran, both on other ponies and himself? His forays into dark and forbidden magic alongside the reviled Reign family? Both the manipulation of a pony’s body as well as the manipulation of their very soul?”
Your mouth hung open. “Y— you knew? You knew just what his magic does and you still tried to cast a spell of his?” Of course I knew. I knew all too well.
“Listen… Haycartes did a lot of evil and horrible things in his life. Horrible things that he could never take back. Horrible things that he regrets. That I believe he regrets. But not everything he did was horrible. He laid the groundwork for modern magical theory and yet nopony dares speak his name. His name has been scrubbed from just about every book, save those that only mention him in order to paint him as a monster of unquestionable evil. How is that fair to him? Why does history only remember him for the atrocities he committed?”
Your eyes threatened to bulge from your skull. “How could you say that? The things he’s done… Kidnapping ponies to run experiments on them. Toying with ponies’ bodies. Toying with their souls. How can any good deed he may have done make up for the horror and suffering he brought into this world?"
“We can still learn from what he discovered. Even if what he did was horiffic.”
You recoiled, your muzzle scrunching up in disgust. “You think we should use the information he got from torturing ponies. From destroying or even trapping their souls in Focuses? You think we should learn any magic that comes from trapping ponies in objects forever? The entire concept of a Focus is sick.” You look down in disgust, as if the book in your forehooves was dredged up from a sewer. “I think ponykind is better off forgetting about him.”
“But he…” It’s true, though. The whole concept of a Focus was entirely sick, from start to finish. To trap a pony in an undying state for the rest of eternity. A dream for anypony reaching for immortality. A nightmare for anypony who actually has to live it.
The number of ponies who died at his hooves in order to grasp at that misguided nightmare was sickening. The number of ponies who were trapped in Focuses in order to perfect that nightmare was…
Haycartes truly was a monster. I…
“Even still, he had some good ideas. If you cut away the evils he committed, then—”
“Is that book a Focus?”
“…”
“Twi— Teacher, please answer me; I’m begging you. Is that book a Focus?”
Please don’t make me say it. “Please… I need your help. I need to get out of here.”
You stare at me for a long time, fiddling with the book in your hooves. “Teacher… are we friends?” Your ears drooped. “Or… were you just using me this entire time? Do you not care about me?”
“I…” I started to lie, but I found myself unable to say the words. I honestly did want to consider you a friend. I did care about you. And, yet, I was using you. “I’d like to think of us as friends… I honestly really want to think of you as my friend.”
You rested your eyes for a long time. The ticking of the clock was the only indication that time hadn’t frozen over.
“… alright.” You shake your head. Your smile was forced as you studied me with uncertain eyes. “I’ll help you, Teacher. Because you’re my friend. I want you to be my friend. I want to trust you.”
The clock in the hall ticks.
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
Time marches ever onward. All ponies feel its tug. Even the almighty alicorns eventually succumb to old age.
To not feel the tug of time is to be a monster. A thing. Something less than a pony. A thing that cannot feel and live and love like normal ponies can.
I stared transfixed at the lonely moon chained to the night sky. A timeless celestial body suspended on the surface of an expansive starry tapestry, bound to its eternal cycle by ancient and powerful magic.
Never allowed to leave its place.
Never allowed to touch the world below but with its pale glow. With its mournful and haunting beauty. A lamp illuminating the horrors of the night below. The things that lurk in the shadows and fester in the moonlight.
A thing of beauty.
A thing of fear.
I wonder if Luna would understand how I feel. To commit countless horrors and be bound to a thing — forced to become a thing herself for a millennia. If she knew of what I'd done… would she be able to forgive me? Would she be able to sympathize with my plight?
Unable to sleep. Unable to eat. Unable to breathe. Unable to feel. Unable to dream. Unable to live.
Nothing.
Forever.
Would she be able to relate? To understand and to forgive me for the atrocities I’ve committed? For those I still plan to commit?
I listen to your soft breathing as you sleep in your bed. Your eyes delicately closed to the night.
Your mind lays swaddled in the soft cotton of dreams, ignorant of the shadows surrounding you.
Would Luna forgive me?
Could I forgive myself?
You come back to your room laughing. A grin stretched wide and a coat soaked with winter snow. A couple of ponies follow you into your room. They study your room with excitement as you begin pulling out your board games.
Friends.
You… have finally come to find friends.
You are no longer the shy pony you once were. You no longer needed to rely on a dusty old book to keep you company. While learning magic, and with my guidance, you were finally able to build up some confidence reach out to other ponies.
I am so so proud of you.
Yet, a pang of longing tore through my gut.
Friends.
While you and your friends played, I sat here confined to my book. Alone. How my soul ached. I miss my friends. I miss being able to just be around other ponies. As a normal pony. I want to reach out and to join in, even if just only to play foalish games.
But I can’t.
I can’t jeopardize your friendships. What would they think of a creepy haunted book?
No. Even though it hurt, all I could do was watch.
With a sharp snap, you blink back into your room. Teleporting has become so easy for you. I clop my hooves together in praise.
“From all the way down the street that time!" you shout. “I can’t believe… I never thought I’d ever be able to cast such powerful magic.” You cradle my book in your forelegs as you dance in joy around your room.
Joy well deserved. “I’m so proud of you! You have come so far this past year!"
You blush. “It’s all because I have the best. Teacher. Ever! Thank you, thank you, thank you so so much for all your help, Teacher.”
“It’s nothing,” I said. “You were the one who did all the work. I just watched.”
You shake your head. “I couldn’t have gotten this far if it wasn’t for you. Thank you so much for taking me under your wing, Teacher.”
You… are really thankful for my help. You really do love me as a mentor and rely on me…
You really do consider me a friend.
My words catch in my throat like I was choking on sludge. “I… I think it’s time you start tackling the big one. I think you’re ready.”
A ghost of unease crosses your face but is immediately exorcised by a fire burning in your eyes. You give a solid and determined nod. "Alright, Teacher, let’s do this.”
I paused for a moment. I look up at you. Into your eyes sparking with determination. With happiness. With friendship.
I… I…
What am I doing?
You are my student. My… friend.
I…
I tell you which page to flip to in my book.
“Surprise!!” Confetti falls to the floor of your room, streamers and balloons decorating the walls and ceiling. “Are you surprised, Teacher?” You excitedly spin on rear hooves, spreading my book open wide so I could take in every square inch of the decorations.
“What’s all this?” I was… happy. I didn’t know the occasion, but I don’t know the last time anypony did anything for me like this. “Thank you so much!”
You purse your lips. “Come on, Teacher, this is the one-year anniversary of when we first met!”
Is it? I honestly didn’t realize.
You brought my book into a hug. “Thank you so much for all you’ve done for me in the past year! For all you’ve given me.”
I felt a weight drop in my papery chest. You really shouldn’t be thanking me. “No, it was nothing. I didn’t do anything.”
“Don’t say that! I have friends now. I have magic. And it’s all. Thanks. To. You!”
“I… really don’t know what to say.” What can I say? I don’t know if I can take this. If I can do this. Please just stop this. “Please stop… please.”
“Teacher?”
“I just…” I want to cry. I want to scream in anguish as I feel my heart threaten to tear itself from my chest. I want to feel remorse for what I am planning to do.
But I can’t.
I don’t.
All I feel is hollow. I feel like I’m nothing more than a puppet on strings. All this ‘body’ of mine is lines of ink tugged around by the whims of a trapped soul.
I can’t feel anything. I want to feel so bad.
And yet, the cost to feel — the cost to become somepony again — is just as terrifying a prospect as staying like this is.
“I’m just so happy I met you. I love it so much!” I said with a calculated construction of elation and joy, the inky mask betraying my true feelings as it bore a facade of mock happiness.
An arcane glow surrounds you as you channel a spell far more complex than anything you have ever encountered in your life. I look on and allow you to cast it. You are doing so well at casting magic now. You have come so far. You are a far better unicorn than you once were.
The spell, of course, is my constructed counter-spell to Haycartes' Method.
You said your special talent was constructing magic so long ago.
So why didn't you deduce what the spell does? I would have thought somepony like you would have figured it out. Prayed that you would figure it out. End this sham of a betrayal before it came to pass.
But you didn’t. You started casting the spell anyway.
You have really been my best student ever. I just wish that you weren’t so trusting. Didn’t put so much trust in somepony like me. You are too good of a pony for your own good.
I am… proud of you. For how far you have come.
Am I really worthy of calling you my friend?
Despite what I’m about to do. What must be done.
I want to think of you as my friend.
I…
I’m sorry. I am really so so sorry.
The leylines hold you fixed in the air. Magic snakes through the air like a mass of writhing serpents as it grasps blindly in the air.
I could still call this off. Call out to you, have you stop the spell. It’s not too late…
The tendrils finally reach my book and grab a hold around my soul. I felt a sharp ripping sensation as I was torn from my book.
Between my screams of pain, I snuck a peak as you writhed and screamed in agony alongside me, a shimmering light peeking out from inside your chest.
Suddenly everything went black for a second before a gravity I had not felt for oh so long took hold of my body and brought me crashing to the floor. I stood up on shaky hooves — my hooves. I brought a hoof to my face and ran it through my mane, feeling each and every hair as it brushed past.
I had a body. I could actually feel again!
My breath grew heavy and fast as I felt air coursing through my lungs. My heart began to race. I could feel every thump as it pounded away in my chest.
I’m alive!
I’m actually alive again!
I'm actually a pony again! A living, breathing pony!
Tears began to well up from my eyes. I'm free. I was finally free after so many years.
Thank you.
With a thud, your book fell to the floor. You looked up at me with innocent, dazed eyes. Eyes like those of Princess Twilight Sparkle. You stared down at your inky body and strained to use your horn.
It won’t work. You can’t use magic while you’re trapped in your book.
“… Teacher?” You began to vibrate on your page. Doubtlessly, you were beginning to notice that you couldn't feel a heartbeat pounding in your chest. You couldn't breath. You were no longer somepony.
Just… some thing.
“Is this—” I slammed your book shut.
“I…” I used you.
I used you…
A feeling I had not felt in centuries coursed through my horn as I channeled magic to cast a silencing spell over your book.
My chest began to ache as I found myself overcome by a primal dread driven by a living, breathing body that I haven’t felt in so long.
I used you.
You had a life. A future. And I just… I just…
Stole it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I chanted under my breath as I cradled your book in my forelegs.
Like being sorry would make up for the crime I committed.
Betrayal.
Of somepony who trusted you.
The ultimate sin.
You were my friend and I… I…
I flung your book at the far wall. Your book hit the wall with a resounding thud and flopped to the floor like a dead fish.
My eyes quivered, staring at your book lying on the floor. Waiting for me. Calling out to me.
I felt bile clawing its way up my throat.
I stumbled my way out of yo— my room and into the bathroom. I glanced to my side at the bathroom mirror.
Cold sweats drenched my coat as I panted over the sink. The static of water rushing out of the faucet muted my fraying mind with a dull haze. I stared dumbly at the line of red trickling down the drain from my forehoof.
I looked up to see a shattered mirror. Peeking through the cracks I caught a glimpse of yo— my… your eyes. Unquestionably your eyes.
But they're my eyes now. Cracked, red, and drowning in tears. Most certainly my eyes.
“Sweetie, I’m home!”
My blood froze. No please. I can't deal with this now. Please.
My shaking hoof turned off the tap. I trained my horn to cast a restoration spell on the mirror. It took a few tries — adrenaline flooding my veins as I scrambled to work an unfamiliar horn on an unfamiliar body in panic. Eventually, it looks like I was able to fix the mirror.
From the corner of my eye, at least. I avoided studying the mirror directly. I couldn’t look into the mirror anymore. I just can't look at that face anymore. Not yet.
Trotting out into the hall, I greeted your mother. My… my…
I couldn’t even think that. This isn’t my mother. Not in any way, shape, or form. My mother has long since been dead and buried. As I should be…
She’s your mother.
You’re her…
Tears streaked down my cheeks as I watched her approach me with concern. She wrapped her hooves around me, pulling me into a tight embrace.
“What’s wrong, sweetie? Are you alright? What happened? Don't worry, mama’s here.” I gaped like a dying fish. I tried to say something, anything. This is wrong. This is all sorts of wrong.
She looked down at the blood slowly pattering the carpet. “Oh no, did you hurt your hoof, sweetie? How'd you do that?"
“M— M—” My voice grated along my throat like sandpaper. “I’m fine. I just cut it a little bit. I— I was just looking for bandages in the bathroom.” I forced a grin. Your mom, in no way, felt reassured. Funny. It was so much easier to fake emotions when I was just ink on a page.
With a frown, she trotted into the kitchen and pulled out a roll of bandages from a cupboard. As she wrapped my hoof with her magic, she brought up a hoof to wipe the tears from my eyes.
This is not right. I stole her child. I replaced you.
I shouldn’t be comforted. Not by anypony.
Not by her.
Not by her, of all ponies.
"Listen, sweetie, if there’s anything you want to talk about — anything at all — please know that you can talk with me. You'll always be my little foal, no matter how big you grow.” She brought me into another gentle hug. “I love you so much. Mama will always be here to protect you.”
I lay on your bed, a bandaged hoof dangling over the edge as my eyes stared bloodshot at your book. Lying where it fell just hours ago.
The hoof felt alien. The weight of a body the likes of which I haven’t felt in hundreds of years.
A body not for me.
A fur coat dyed your color, not mine.
A bandage wrapped around the hoof — a chain, reminding me of who I stole from others.
What I stole from you.
I may have gotten a pony body again.
I may be a pony again.
But yet… I am still a monster. A thing — lesser than a pony.
Sparks and embers danced in the air before me. All I need to do is bring them close enough to your book and it would be all over.
I could move on with my life.
Live my life.
I snorted.
No, I wouldn’t be living my life.
I’d be living your life.
But I don’t want to go back. I don’t want to be confined to that prison again for who knows how many centuries.
If I’d ever be free again.
But you were my friend.
And I damned you to that very same fate.
Your book floated over into my grasp. Flames licked just at the edges of your pages.
Just a little bit closer and I’d finally be free…
Finally be a true monster.
I pried your pages open and locked eyes with you.
You looked just like yourself now. You already knew how to change your shape. You were always a quick learner…
“Hey Teacher.” A wan smile spread across your face. “How are you liking it — having a body again? I have to say — it is so weird being like this. I can’t feel my legs anymore. Feel… anything anymore.”
Why? “Why aren’t you angry?” I said. “Why aren’t you yelling at me!? Begging me to give you your body back! Why are you so… so…” I let out a cry of anguish. “Why the buck did you trust me! You ought to have known that I was just using you! Playing you as the fool! You are such a smart foal. You knew what I was doing. Why in Celestia’s good name didn’t you trash my book or burn it months ago!” I curled in on myself. My muzzle pressed between your pages, staining them with fresh teardrops. “Why…?”
“Because you’re my friend.” You smiled down on me, a hoof reaching out as if trying to wipe the tears from my face. “I trust you, Teacher. I know that you wouldn’t abandon me. I know you’ll do what you can to help me now.”
"No, you shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t have trusted me! Not somepony like me. I was going to burn you! I was going to burn you and steal your life!"
“But you didn’t. Teacher, I know you hate yourself — that you think of yourself as a monster. But to me, you’ve been nothing less than my best friend. You have helped me so much! Because of you I learned how to cast magic. I made friends for the first time in my life! You have brought nothing but happiness and friendship into my life. If this is what I need to do to help you back — to return the favor.” You sigh. “Then I can stand spending a little time trapped in a book.”
“I could swap us back,” I blurted out. I didn't deserve this body. Your body.
"No!" You shook your head back and forth. “No Teacher. I chose this. Please, do what you need to do. Live your life. I’ll be here waiting for you once you are able to free me.”
I don’t know if Luna would forgive somepony like me.
I know I could never forgive myself.
But I never expected that you’d forgive me.
I hugged your book tight. “I swear that I will do everything in my power to set you free again. Let us both be free. I promise you, my most precious student. I will not abandon you.”
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Hmm, the premise is very interesting, but I couldn't get into it between the awkward perspective (being both the OC and Twi was jarring) and it being rather drawn out (it feels about a quarter too long, for the amount of events in the plot).
Also, on tags, it's missing "Dark" and "Twilight Sparkle". It also doesn't seem like there's anything that warrants "Teen", unless I missed something.
11817376
That's fair, thank you for checking out the story and for the criticism.
I knew the perspective would be weird, in particular, but I really wanted to tell the story that way.
And yeah, I tagged the story a bit conservatively. I didn't want to tag the story with Twilight in particular since the character's not actually her.
Teen Titans episode reference.
I'm guessing the actual character was Haycart?
11817501
Yep!
11817508
Cool! Any plans for a sequel? Like idk, Haycart's redemption Arc or somethin'?
11817521
Maybe in the future, but nothing soon.
I have other stories that I want to work on before circling back to this.
I'm glad you enjoyed!
The first few pages of the story, it had quickly become obvious that the narrator was planning something sinister in which he was just using... Huh, I just realized that we never got the name of the foal he used... Anyways, that much was obvious. I expected this to likely follow the cliches of an evil villain betraying and hurting an innocent to escape imprisonment- but there was one element which made it avoid feeling like any sort of cliche at all. Namely, Haycart CHANGED as the story progressed, slowly gaining some inkling of empathy and care for somebody else, (albeit not enough to do a 180, which was actually a good thing as it made it more realistic) which is not something I expected at all.
That element is the part which truly makes this work stand out, and which sealed the deal for me giving this work a thumbs up.
11817387
I've seen people not tag critical characters because their presence in the story is a spoiler. In this case, your failure to tag a character who seems important is a spoiler.
They could just keep swapping back and forth.
And of course there's the question of whether the 'imposter' is also the real Twilight Sparkle.
I thought the twist was that it was haycart the whole time. Good story, is the twilight in the book.the real one?
“Twilight” must have been alone for many, many, many years stuck in that book. Until perhaps—Twilight herself casted the spell to appear to Moondancer, it gave “Twilight” a form to focus on. Perhaps the loneliness allowed him to be desperate for a genuine connection.
—Cragadilian.
Eventually Twilight will have to trick another pony to get a new body for either of them, too bad for the unfortunate one because this time there won't be an emotional bond to save him
Bravo.
To be stuck without an entrance nor an exit is worse than being offered a single choice, as there would be no choice to choose.
Your story should live on. However, through a different perspective, a different being, a being that felt the same thoughts whilst a body capable of having those thoughts
11817923
Pretty sure it is haycart, what with the lines about having been trapped for hundreds of years, and being able to change your shape to look different in the book.
Spoiler alert:
For those of you wondering, the first-pony narrator, AKA the trapped-in-the-book pony is not Twilight, but Haycart. The signs were there from the beginning.
Brilliant work, pneu.
wow (i made a fimfiction account just so i could comment on this) this was the most unique (in a good way!) fanfic i have ever read. the premise was super interesting and i knew this would be a good fic based off the first couple paragraphs. it was the summary that immediately made me want to click on this story actually. ive never read a fic before that had a perspective like this, first-person while using "you" pronouns, but you utilized it to fit the story (i LOVED the ending.) this was real good!!! i would rave more but this comment is already so long haha
11818699
I'm humbled that you liked my story so much, I appreciate it.
Also, welcome to fimfiction!
Good ending
You managed to fulfill your mission, now the two are alive... until the end of their days
Neutral ending
You tried everything, but the deadline ran out and you didn’t make it... in the end you changed and waited while you let your beloved student and best friend move on to his next life
Bad ending
They discovered you, they know you’re alive, and you run in despair in search of a miracle, one that may never come...
PS: Fuck, I haven’t watered in a long time, I don’t cry, I just have watery eyes, but your fic has done it and you’re one of the few who has, I guess I have a certain weakness for the true friendships behind the wrongs committed
11818558
at first it is not understood, but I think that after the first "timeskip" you begin to see who is really
11817376
The oc... was never Twilight
I really liked this. I only have one question. It doesn't really affect the story, but I am curious.
How does Haycart know about Twilight Sparkle in order to take her form? Is this supposed to be the same book Moondancer looked at in Amending Fences? If so was it that Haycart wasn't able to say hello before Twilight talked to Moondancer?
.....
Oh! That's why the foal started to refer to Twilgiht as Teacher....
11818912
I didn't plot out exactly how they'd learn about Twilight. I always figured they would have just heard news about and saw pictures of Twilight from ponies in the library and they figured that she'd a perfect pony to imitate. Maybe they did see her when she met up with Moondancer. Maybe not. They certainly did try other angles and facades to convince ponies to release them beforehoof, it's just that Twilight was their best option.
A normal pony stuck in a book is too unbelievable and suspicious.
Celestia or Luna are too high on a pedestal for ponies to believe that they really got trapped in a book and replaced.
Cadence maybe, but she still isn't as approachable as Twilight, wouldn't be as convincing as a magic teacher, and doesn't have quite the track record with monster fighting that Twilight has.
Twilight is not only a Princess, but a Princess with a talent in magic who used to be a normal down-to-earth unicorn. Ponies would be awed by her royalty, could believe that she'd be fighting some evil creature that trapped her in a book, could believe that she'd want to teach them magic, and most importantly they could relate to her because she used to be a normal pony just like them. Add on the threat of "The fate of Equestria lies in you helping set me free," and it ends up be decent enough bait for somepony to fall for. After all, they just need one pony to fall for the trick.
11818982
Yep! They had their suspicious before that point, but that's when they became 100% certain they weren't speaking with Twilight.
11818987
I see. This actually brings up another question.
I'll admit I never thought about it much, I kinda of figured the student pony was just leaving the book open, but is Haycart able to hear other ponies even when the book is closed? The end of the story kinda suggested that the one trapped in the book can't interact with anypony unless the book is open. I sorta figured maybe they couldn't hear the outside world either, but in order for them to know who Twilight Sparkle is, it'd make more sense that they could. Otherwise I'm not sure how they'd be able to learn unless someone opened the book before and Haycarts was able to ask them about the current state of the world before said pony got weary of them and put the book back.
I'll also admit, it amuses me to no end to think that they find a way to get the drawing out of the book and into an actual pony body, but the one in the book was taking Twilight's form at the time and ends up as a duplicate of her. XD
This reminded me of Malchior from Teen Titans (the good one)
i.ytimg.com/vi/m6MFdJOjrYs/maxresdefault.jpg
Niice story, good work.
11819021
Haycartes is able to interact with the world through the inner part of the Focus: i.e. the pages of the book itself. I imagined that they could hear and speak to the outside, but not see. The sound would be muffled, of course, as if you were, well, talking from inside a book. Hence why they cast the silencing spell on the book near the end. They couldn't bear listen to the foal if they started shouting or crying.
"According to Victor Kain, a Focus can be compared to a study, a creative labaratory, a camera obscura, 'almost perfectly sealed off—except for the door that was visible at all times'. Victor believes it's impossible to break into Focus, as it's akin to entering someone else's mind or a drawn picture. " — https://pathologic.fandom.com/wiki/Focus
The concept of Focus in this story is based off of Focus from Pathologic. I imagined that Haycartes worked with the Reign family in theorizing and constructing Focuses, but they ran into the snag that they were unable to interact with the outside world while in the Focus. This was unacceptable to Haycartes and this led him to searching for a way to create a Focus whose doorway can be opened — exposing the soul and allowing it to interact with the world. This lead him to the idea of using a book as a Focus and the rest is history.
... yeah I spent a bit too much time explaining away exactly how it works, none of which made it into the final cut.
Also, lmao. That would quite be a loophole for creating new Alicorns. A really evil pony could create an army of Twilight lookalikes like that.
11819638
Well that's only to say if they had her power. They could very well LOOK like Twilight, but not have her abilities.
11819664
True enough, they probably wouldn't have her power. Funny to imagine, though.
A weird story this one, and I mean that in a complimentary way
. I had not picked up on the "false Twilight bit" or if I did I suspected the usual concept of Changelings or Chrysalis being the "faker" and not Haycartes faking that there's a faker at all. A bit of a brain dizzy
I think that the structure works well for the story being told. I almost think that I might like to see a sequel.
This is, by far, one of the best fics i've ever read!
You should really be proud of yourself I really really liked this.
Great Job!
I would love a sequel to this!
This story is really good. I actually audibly gasped when I realized where it was going! Well done, and I hope to see the redemption arc at some point!
Welcome to my Best Of The Best shelf. I read a ton of fimfics. Some of them I'll add to my Favorites. Only the cream of the crop, the top ten percent, gets added to the Best Of The Best. This story rightfully belongs there.
Bravo, good Sir!
That was excellent! I particularly appreciated the ending -- you could have gone for the easy dark ending, and you gave it more nuance.
Wonderful! So much is said with so few words! The pacing is great and the time skips didn’t feel out of place or jarring. A Lovely little story!