The Watcher
There is a world, simply a speck of dust in the big picture of time and space, that holds life. I say a world because it is only one. The planet is, as all celestial bodies are, spherical, and its surface is green and blue and white and purple—a myriad of colors, all of which I have seen before. It orbits a sun, with other planets (but none too close to see from the earthen sphere of which I speak), like others. But the difference about this one speck of star dust is the fact that on it, wandering its surface as it performs its magical dance through the cosmos, is life. Life, the mystery that even the universe itself has not puzzled out, something that in all of the worlds in all of the galaxies in all of the universes cannot be repeated. This planet is an anomaly born of circumstances too miraculous to have occurred together, but they have occurred.
I wander the universes, staring into their souls, searching for something that I could not (but had to) believe was there. I did not know what I was craving until I found it in a young galaxy, its star burning bright but small. There, upon a condensed ball of stardust, did I see the most amazing of sights, one which cannot be repeated again.
I saw a pulse from this wandering star that intrigued me, something that now reminds me of a heartbeat. Only there was no pulse, not really—not on the physical plane, or on the one which has no name but is instead a black hole that will one day swallow me whole as it has done to so many other things. But they were inanimate, they could not feel pain, and even though I am not sure if I will feel pain when it comes for me (if it is sentient, which I doubt—something about it resembles a machine, a relic from long ago that survived some catastrophe and is now only doing its duty because nothing has told it to stop), I fear it.
No, I exist wedged between the planes, something I have yet to comprehend despite my knowledge. It was on this level that I saw the pulse, and I drew close to the cooled rock to observe. There was stone and water, nothing else, and I was about to draw away in disappointment when I saw the pulse again. It came from a point where the dense stone had eroded by wind, telling me that the planet’s atmosphere was sufficient to protect from the harsh rays of light from the new burning star. The water had also eroded the rock, and for a million years this was all there was. Erosion of rock by wind and water, nothing that had not happened billions of times before. But the pulse was still there, so I waited.
Gradually, the rock turned to sand, which howled along with the wind, chipping at columns of stone that had frozen thousands of feet into the air. The sand soon covered everything, carving deep rifts into the planet. Nutrients from the atmosphere and the core beneath, which had shed layers of ores and more rock, turned the sand into dirt. And from the dirt came the first of them.
Bacteria, simple and tiny, a dot on a larger dot, split into two. I watched, fascinated, as they multiplied at fantastic rates. The pulse I felt was stronger now, almost tangible, and I dared not move for fear that I would upset the balance of this anomaly. Over another few million years, these bacteria got more complex, and I waited. They found water, and in water they adapted, until tiny fish swam in the massive seas. These fish grew, bigger and bigger, until they could have swallowed the moon revolving around the living planet in one gulp.
I watched as they moved from the sea to the land, growing lungs and claws and wings and fur. There were so many, but none of them noticed me as they fought for survival. There were plants, giant growths of green that gave the food these living things needed to survive. Forests swayed, tall and flexible; mountains stood, wide and immovable; seas frothed, drawn by the lure of the moon as it raced around the planet, appearing in the night sky along with the stars which I had visited long before.
But the pulse had not gotten stronger; if anything, it had gotten weaker. I was worried as the planet froze, trees breaking at the slightest touch, mountains covered with snow, the seas carved into ornate shapes by the skill of frost. The animals adapted, growing thick fur, but the pulse was slow, and I feared the end.
Then they came.
From horses, a smaller breed had been born; ponies. The first were strong in muscle, but had no appendages other than their hooves. Then something happened that changed the small world again. The pulse of the world shrunk and fitted itself inside one of the mares who was about to give birth, something that will always fascinate me. The ability to make life, something that even the universe managed to do only once, was being done here millions of times over.
The small pulse forced its way out of the mare, and two foals emerged. One had a horn, like a fish I had seen in the north before the freeze. The other had wings, like a bird, but they were too small to allow flight. The pulse raced with their heartbeats, and as they grew so did it. They mated and had foals of their own, and as the three races intertwined, their culture grew. Soon, they were communicating—not with grunts and primitive signals, like apes or dogs, but with their voices.
The pulse was huge; it reached beyond the atmosphere to the sun and planets beyond, glowing almost too brightly to watch. The ponies bent the environment to their will, and for the first time magic was used. It happened on a snowy night to a foal that was shivering in the cold. His life was ebbing, flowing away, but with the last of his strength his horn sparked and landed on twigs, making fire. With the heat came his energy, and when other heard of what happened they also tried it.
They named themselves and things around them, words which I use to describe what I saw before them. Earth Pony, Pegasai, Unicorn, sun, moon, fire, water, animals, plants, bugs, life; and death. Death is what the black hole is, but at the same time it is not; it has the air of being only a portal, beyond which is a world beyond words, something so wonderful that to stoop to crude, finite language would be a travesty.
War was an unknown concept to the ponies, but when it first happened they were quick to embrace the blood lust. So many were killed that I feared for the integrity of the pulse, which was all that mattered to me then. But as most of their population died, the ponies stopped fighting and started to work together to drive off monsters that attacked them, lured, as I was, by the pulse (which the ponies named magic).
The Earth Ponies farmed, the pegasai controlled the weather, and the unicorns created spells to prevent disease and catastrophe. There was peace, and for the first time I focused not on the magic, but on the ponies themselves. From a pair of ponies (a unicorn and a pegasus) came a pony with both horn and wings, with coat as pure white as snow, and magic ran in its veins. When it grew, it led the other ponies to prosperity, and they elected it King. When it sat upon the first throne, the magic gave a gift of its own. A mark appeared on the flank of the king, a shield with both sun and moon on it, and from that moment, every foal born received a mark when they discovered what they were the best at.
But the ponies were not the only ones advancing. To the south, the Zebrae made potions, fought their own wars, and painted the first glyphs upon their flanks, each one different and unique. While some of them had horns or wings, none of them possessed both, but that was never a problem for the Zebrae. They, too, elected a leader, but this one was a Queen, and an Earth Pony. Both the Queen and King of the different races were kind and loyal to their subjects.
They met one fateful day when the first interactions of their kind occurred, a day that could have spelled disaster but did not. I was still watching, unwilling to do anything on the physical plane. Later I realized I could not do anything; the magic rejected anything that was not born of it, so I must remain an onlooker.
The Queen and King, on the other hand, could. And they did. Love was not rare in those days, and it happened frequently between all ponies of all kinds. Male and male, female and female, male and female. It did not matter if they were Earth Pony, Pegasai, or unicorn. As long as they were happy they lived and loved together.
The King and Queen loved each other. They joined in marriage and had one foal, which had all three races in its blood. And when it was born it had not the stripes of the Zebrae, but the whole coat of its pony father. The coat was as black as the night sky, but its eyes were the golden brown of the sun. Its flank was bare.
The King and Queen died of age, but their daughter lived on, and as she grew she commanded the sun and moon to rise and set on her command. Seasons were no longer guessing games, but carefully planned and executed. The magic of the world reached far beyond the galaxy in which it resided now, and at its core was the planet. For a thousand years, peace reigned, and the daughter of the King and Queen had one child, a male whose name was the first I learned.
It was Alicorn.
The now-queen lived for two thousand years, and then died of age, but she had a son to guide the ponies she left behind. He bore two children, one as white as snow and one dark blue, sisters who he named Celestia and Luna. They were young, and played happily, and I watched them with amazement. They loved each other, and their father, and their subjects. Their hearts did not have even the smallest seeds of evil which I had seen in other ponies, the seeds that grew into dark monsters that destroyed the pony from the inside out.
Peace and harmony reigned for a hundred years. And then, from the north, where winged creatures called griffons lived, awoke a monster. He was an ancient evil, a combination of many animals, with the power of illusion and chaos. When he rampaged south, to the foot of the throne, he was given a name that no pony dared whisper at the time: Discord.
The King, concerned for his daughters, sent them away into hiding. He ended up facing Discord alone, and fought bravely before being ripped to shreds by the Lord of Chaos. Discord took the throne and ruled the land (and the ponies) with carelessness. The sun and moon appeared in the sky randomly, clouds rained chocolate milk, and strange diseases made the crops wilt and die. For a thousand years Discord ruled, until Celestia and Luna were old enough to fight back.
Over the years, they had made three friends who would help them to defeat Discord. One was a mighty unicorn of the Crystal Empire, King Sombra. He and the ponies who he ruled were made of crystal, but their magic was just as strong as normal ponies, if not stronger. He was generous and smart, and made armor of the hardest crystal he could find for his friends. He also instructed Celestia and Luna in strategy, as they could not blindly rush in and try to defeat Discord.
The second was Queen Chrysalis, another Alicorn with a special talent of illusion magic. She was able to change her shape, and the shape of others, to anything she wished. The ponies under her rule were normal, and could be any race. The Queen granted them horns when she initiated them, allowing them access to magic. She was always honest and could not tell a lie to anyone. She taught Celestia and Luna her tricks, giving them an edge of surprise over Discord, who had not seen this type of magic before.
The last of their friends resided in the dream world. Her name was Dream Moon, and her powers extended to Luna only. She gave Luna the power to walk in other’s dreams, to know their thoughts and desires, and to interact with them while dream-walking.
With these powers, and their friends, the two Alicorns were ready.
They snuck into Discord’s palace, finding him tossing fitfully in sleep, courtesy of Dream Moon. But as the two tried to kill him, he awoke and attacked. The battle was long and bloody, leaving many dead even though Celestia and Luna tried to stop the harm of innocent bystanders. But, with the help of their friends, Discord was turned to stone. Before he was completely encased, he cast a curse on Celestia and Luna, but it was reflected and absorbed by Sombra, Chrysalis and Dream Moon.
Chrysalis’ fur dropped off, leaving a black exoskeleton of a bug, with holes in her forelocks where the curse had first touched her. All the ponies under her rule became the same, and in horror they retreated to the Badlands, a desert of nothing but sand and stone. Chrysalis did the same, cursing Luna and Celestia and vowing revenge. Her illusion magic stayed with her, and all of the newborns after the change could use it as well.
Sombra’s coat turned as black as night, and his eyes turned red. His generosity turned to greed, and when he went back to his empire he ruled with an iron hoof, his heart cold as the crystal he so avidly desired.
Dream Moon was blown into Luna by the curse, and so it was within her that she became Nightmare Moon. The curse twisted her kindness, her love, and made it into hate and venom. Celestia and Luna wearily took the throne, mourning for their friends as though they had died. And, in a way, they had—the parts of them that were good and happy had wilted, replaced by the choking weeds of hate and greed.
But the land, newly christened Equestria, prospered, growing until monsters became something mares would threaten children with playfully, until discord was merely an insult and not a curse. For years there was balance. And then Nightmare Moon stirred in Luna’s chest, flaring jealousy and malice, and Luna was unable to stop the feelings. Now, every time she saw the sun, she was reminded how little her night was respected and praised. The seeds of discord grew within her, and soon Nightmare Moon did not need to whisper horrible things into Luna’s ears; they came there of their own accord.
Celestia noticed her sister’s growing coldness and tried to talk to her, but Luna was beyond talk. One night, she refused to lower the moon to make way for the sun, and even with her sister’s pleading her heart was still cold. Celestia had to call upon the Elements of Harmony—a forgotten relic that was created long ago, sealed away by Discord. She wielded them all, and banished Luna to the moon.
I watched Luna with interest. She was the first pony beyond the atmosphere of the planet, but she could still not see me. I think that at time she could sense me, when the moon was the farthest away from the planet, but it was fleeting and she paid it little attention. Most of her time was spend weeping over what she had done, but Nightmare Moon was quick to dry Luna’s tears with plots of revenge. For a thousand years Luna seethed and wailed through the vacuum of space, her tears soaking into the barren turf of the moon.
Then the day came when the moon was so close to the planet that for just a moment (nothing more than a second), the two were connected, and Luna burst free, her mind finally set on revenge. I watched as she demonstrated her cruelty and deception as Nightmare Moon, and how she fled to the palace her and her sister had romped through as children.
Six ponies chased after her, two Earth Ponies, two Pegasai, and two Unicorns. In the wild forest they became friends, friends enough to defeat Nightmare Moon with the Elements of Harmony. Her shell was stripped away, casting what had once been Dream Moon out of Luna and into the great beyond, where the black hole resides. I watched her fade, whispered my apologies, and I think that at the last moment she heard me and was at peace; and then she was gone.
The six ponies became famous, their names (Twilight, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Applejack, Fluttershy and Pinkie Pie) immortal throughout Equestria for their deeds. For the rest of their natural lives they went on adventures, made friends, and brought harmony wherever they went. One of them, Twilight, became a Princess as well. Her friends grew old as she stayed young, and when they died she mourned. When the last of them died, a pink Earth Pony named Pinkie Pie, Twilight grew weary of this world and buried herself so deeply in sleep that she became stone. I felt her, too, slip through to the other side. Unlike some others, she was eager to go; maybe she saw something others didn’t, knew some knowledge that even I do not, because when she went there was no sadness in her. Celestia and Luna shed tears together, as did all of Equestria. For two hundred years there was pain at Twilight’s departure. But there were more pressing matters at hand than just one lost life.
The pulse was dying.
Where the pulse touched, planets rotated and moved with the cosmos. The universe was in order because of the magic the ponies wielded, although they did not know this. As that magic receded, the planets stopped spinning, the suns burned up, and all that was left was stardust.
I think that the pulse itself was living, breathing, watching with proud eyes at its creations. I could not find it, though, so for all I know it was like the black hole. But as it got old, as it got weaker, the magic started to deplete. Soon, normal unicorns struggled to simply lift things. Pegasai could barely fly, their wings just realizing that with a body so large, wings should be much larger for any kind of lift. Earth Ponies lost their farming touch, crops wilting unexpectedly and weather moody and unpredictable.
Ponies started to die, flocking to the other side with wails of regret. The atmosphere began to deteriorate, letting harsh beams of sun in to slice the earth apart and bake it from the inside out. There were fights, panic, and I all could do was watch. Equestria was unraveling, life itself was coming apart at the seams, and I could not help.
At long last, Luna and Celestia were the only ones left. They were dying, both of them, and I could feel them slipping away. In one last, desperate attempt, I yelled across the boundary separating us with a voice I did not know I had. I yelled, and Luna heard. She raised her head as the last of the magic died, and for the first time saw me. There was no awe in her eyes, only pain and sadness. I stared into her soul and told her everything as Celestia died in her hooves. I told her of my wanderings, the pulse, how she came to be from two foals whose names I do not know, who unknowingly created this all just by being born.
The knowledge that nothing was beyond her small corner of the world—no, the thought that her world was a small speck of a speck on a beach that stretched for miles—stunned her. But more than that, it saddened her. She wept, as I would have if I knew how, for the loss of life. Her exhausted tears stained the ground, and she lay next to her sister, ready to die. With the last of her strength she looked up and whispered to me the last words of her kind.
“For me and my ponies, remember us. Remember the good and the bad of us, the wars and the love, the harmony and the discord, and keep it with you forever. Wander the cosmos and watch for us. Watch for that which has happened only once, that which happened here. And if you find it, watch them as well. Keep them safe, Watcher. Keep my successors safe.”
And then she slipped into the void, and the pulse vanished. The planet crumbled, collapsing into itself, bringing with it all the history of Equestria and the lands beyond. There was no one to cry out, no one to watch as all that had remained of life disappeared.
Except me. I watched, even though it was painful. I watched as new planets were formed, but no life.
I still watch, and wait. I keep my word to Luna, to the ponies who never knew me.
I am The Watcher.