Found on the desk of MeesterBob. Appears to have been written by someone completely insane.
Greetings, FIMFiction, I am Meester Bob, poor writer and fellow brony.
I must admit, however, that the following story is not the result of my poor writing skills. No, this is something else entirely.
This morning, I fired up my computer and found, to my surprise, a PDF file open. It appeared to have been hand-written, but enclosed in a cypher. My curiosity understandably peaked, I scanned it further to find the key to the cypher on the last page. I have begun the long process of translating it.
I will post it here as I complete entries.
Inspired by the works of HP Lovecraft. Is not, however, a Cthulhu Mythos crossover.
This entry was first in the book, though it appears to have been the last written.
It is all for naught. All of it, all of us, harmony, friendship...
I must gather my thoughts. I am smarter than this. I cannot allow myself to be so easily broken, so easily battered. I admit my findings are rather disturbing, and I cannot fully comprehend the things I have found. One thing is certain, though. Whoever said "knowledge is power" has a lot to learn about the world.
All night, that Luna-cursed poem has been rushing through my head. Over and over I see him, sitting there, writhing in pain, wanting the madness to stop, wishing to wake up from this nightmare. Oh, how I long to return to that blissful state of ignorance! I had a life, I had hopes and aspirations. I had a family, a job...
What do I have now? What have I accomplished? Faust-curse it, I cannot say I am glad to have taken this road. What imagined life I had is gone, now. I cannot work. I cannot love. I no longer feel happiness or sorrow, warmth or cold, love or hate. For how can you "feel" an emotion that is not yours? I have no emotions, for I have no me.
And if She wakes up, I cease to exist.
There is still time. While saving myself or my race is far out of hand, what magic I still have left I can use. I will send this manuscript, along with the key to the cypher, through the one dimensional portal I can still create. I just hope someone reads it. Someone finds it. My life may be in vain, but the warning can, perhaps save them.
Or, as I write this, I shudder. What if, through my writing, I reveal something about the Faust-world not even they were meant to know?
Oh, by the gods, I cannot stay here while a people live in ignorance, and die in vain. The truth must come out, now that I know it, and the people must wake up. They must wake so that She still slumbers.
If no action is taken, they are just as doomed as us. Here the text switches to plain English. I beseech you, whoever finds and reads this book, to use this knowledge as you see fit. The horrors of this life may be spared you and your people, if you read this tome and take to heart all it says.
Guard your sanity, for it is the dearest thing to you. Never let hope die... Die. Death. Despair...
No! I must finish my instruction! The nurse may come in at any second, and I must have sent it by then. Sent... Sending, sender, oh how fun words are! Wax, wane, wont, want...
Sleep. Dream. Imagine. Believe. Sleep as She sleeps, dream the most joyful dream...
This entry, interestingly, appears second in the book. It is also written in this curios cypher, and took me several hours to translate. March 15, 1003 A.E.
I have decided to begin keeping a journal, here, to make sure that what I find is not lost to the fluxing and waning of my mind. While I was once able to keep a vast amount of information in this mind of mine, age is catching up to me, and with age, forgetfulness. This study could change everything, what we know about Magic is all wrong. Despite being an Earth Pony, my magic is fairly strong, and I use it to confound and beguile the unicorns who believe us to be inferior.
After studying magic for years, I am ready to begin chronicling my findings. I hope to publish this journal, once it is completed, as a study of magic's true form. I will, of course, remove these anticdotal writings beforehand, for I seek not to bore my readers, but to educate them.
When I first began my study into the realm of magic, many years ago, I found that it is not as clear-cut as "unicorn lights horn, object levitates". No, magic is much more complex, with the ability to cast spells being a long and difficult process. I have deep respect for those souls who have spent years studying it's application and use.
However, in our haste to study how to use it, the topic of where it comes from has never been covered. The only scholar I could find who ever spent any amount of time was the famed "Star Swirl the Bearded", who mysteriously disappeared before his greatest accomplishments could be realized. Unfortunately, I do not have access to his records, as they are kept under lock and key in the Royal Archives. I suppose if I were to ask for them I would be laughed at. What use would an Earth Pony have for the writings of a Unicorn Magician?
Actually, a lot.
My first fling with magic happened when I was very young. I distinctly remember the day. I was only a blank-flank colt then, and, though my tooth was sweet enough, my height was lacking, that cookie jar being just our of reach. My mother had wisely put the jar out of my reach even if I stood on my tippy-hooves on top of a chair. I remember feeling so dejected, like my world was over.
Oh, how foolish the young are!
It was then that I imagined it. I imagined being a Unicorn, which would solve my problem of the out-of-reach jar of sweets. I imagined magic covering the object, it falling into my arms, the ecstasy of biting down into that chocolate-brownie-batter cookie my mother made, and...
Then it happened. The miracle.
I heard a scraping noise. The ceramic of the jar scraping across the wooden shelf. It was only an instant, but felt like an aeon. The jar visibly moved off the shelf, but, unlike in my fantasy, my level of surprise surpassed my dexterity, and I dropped the jar, it and its precious contents shattering across the kitchen floor.
To this day, my parents believe I jostled the shelf, but I know the truth.
I used magic. I, an Earth Pony, magically moved that jar. There is no other explanation. It was from that tender age I decided to begin studying magic and its origin, knowing that I could use it, and therefore something we all hold to be truth is, indeed, false.
I have come to the conclusion that magic, though it takes skill to wield, is not from within, but from without. Unicorns have a horn which appears to have evolved to harness it, making their application of it that much stronger. But, that does not make it exclusive.
There is ambient magic in the air. It surrounds us, runs through us, and pervades us. But it is not from us.
I have requested an audience with the Princess. I feel confident she will admit me into the royal archives after reading a sampling of my research and study. I also feel certain she will confirm to me that there is a central location, somewhere the magic comes from. If we can trace the magic to it's source...
I must put down my writing now. I am being summoned.
That is the end of the entry. After that, there is something written in the margin. I have translated it below.
This night of death and doom and tears, is naught more than a dream. And when the Dreamer 'wakes, my dear, That is when we all should scream.
This entry appears to be a continuation of the previous one.
I... I am at a loss for words.
I was summoned for my audience with the Princess, but...
I don't understand.
Let me start at the beginning. I walked into the throne room, and to my surprise not one but two princess were there, the Goddess Celestia and her sister Luna, despite the fact that Luna usually sleeps during the day. That fact alone was enough to make me more alert and focused. Obviously, something I had said or done was enough to cause the Goddess of the Night to be awakened. I, frankly, was excited.
The Princess entreated me to show her my "wand", as I have come to call the apparatus. After many years of study of both the Unicorn horn, as well as the concept of magic flow, I had created for myself a mechanical device used to the same effect. Without it, I, lacking the necessary appendages to harness Magic's full power, could not do much more than cause a small object to move a few inches, and even that takes great concentration.
I gave my speech on why I believe magic is ambient, on why we all believe wrong about it and its application, and how my studies would be greatly aided by access to the royal Archives. "In particular, the works of the famed Star Swirl the Bearded and his assistant Clover the Clever would aid me greatly in finding the truth about the origin and properties of magic." I'm sure my smile must have looked a mile wide. "Furthermore, his observations on the practical applications of more arcane spells would aid me greatly in putting the finishing touches on my wand, which now can only harness enough magic to preform rudimentary functions."
The Princesses looked at each other, in a kind of knowing way. Their faces, though still bright, had any trace of a smile gone. I wondered why the somber mood had suddenly overtaken our goddesses. Did I say something wrong? Did the princess know something I didn't? Unease began to eat away at my initial exuberance, and I could feel the smile leaving my face.
Meanwhile, Celestia and Luna's expressions left the impression of a wordless conversation in my mind. They each nodded or shook their heads in turn, obviously arguing about something of arcane importance. I couldn't, from this, tell the topic of conversation, but I could see that it was on a grave matter.
Celestia finally broke the silence. "If I may, Mr. Twinkle, may I take custody of that Wand?"
It was about here that I began to be suspicious. If she had asked to "see" it, it would be implied that it would be returned. However, she had, probably purposefully, implied that I was not to get it back. I hesitated for a moment, but then handed it to her. "Thank you. Now, are there any other prototypes?" I merely shook my head, not understanding what she was about to do.
"I'm sorry, my little pony. Some things must be done for the greater good." The ageless princess said, in the same manner I would apologize for hitting somepony's dog with my cart. I took a second to understand what she was saying, but by the time I did, it was too late.
The invention, the one I had spent years on, snapped in half, Celestia's yellow glow surrounding the shattered sides of a once amazing contraption.
"Star Twinkle, you are hereby ordered to cease and desist your studies into the origin and properties of magic. All works and related topics of study are to be given to the guards for disposal. This is a matter of national security. My sister and I will secure you employment elsewhere. My guards will follow you home."
Somewhere during that explanation, I had dropped to my knees, too broken to cry. Without my studies, I was nothing. I had literally spent my life building that wand, localizing research, observing magic in use...
It is by a miracle this book still exists.
Damn Celestia and Luna's warnings, I shall find the truth. No matter who it is, or why they hide it, the truth cannot stay hidden long. Even now, I am planning how to successfully sneak into the archives, how to gather my books, how to secretly continue my study. I will be proven right, no matter the cost!
Here I stand! I can do no other! So help me Celestia, I will find the truth.
The entry ends here. Once again, there is something written in the margin, though it does not appear in his hand.
Something screwy is afoot, and I am determined to find out what.
I'm sorry about that note in the Author's note last week. I have no idea who wrote that or when. I will find out, but it appears my account is fine. I am a little suspicious that someone is pranking me, now, with some of this crap. However, I intend to see this through to the end.
March 21st, 1003 A.E.
That's it. I am officially a criminal. But, I am a criminal seeking knowledge, and this makes me a different breed of criminal from the ruffians that the word evokes images of. No, I seek not riches or power. I want to find the truth.
It is not easy, though. It is as if an occult hand is stopping me from perusing my goal, making my life difficult at every turn, stopping me from ever finding what I so long to know.
I did it. I broke into the Royal Archives, in a manner so convoluted and fiendishly clever that I fear to reproduce it here, as it would take volumes. Suffice it to say the Royal Archives are not as carefully guarded as one might expect, as most criminals do not seek knowledge.
I wonder how long it will take them to realize that "On the Origin of the Arcane" by Star Swirl the Bearded is missing. I hear it has not been consulted for hundreds of years, the majority of his students focusing on his Time Spells. I, of course, know better. I have in my hooves his life's work, which before he could realize I lost.
However, it is written in a cypher almost as complex as the stories he weaves. He and I think alike. I think I will use this books my place to store translations. It might make the margins messy, but it is the only place they don't know about.
I am being watched. Of this I am certain. They must be guards, but I never see them. It is more of a feeling. A feeling of dread, reinforced by ominous omens. For example, I am certain I left my pen on my desk last night, but this morning I found it under my pillow. I don't understand, but I must remain extra diligent to avoid my work being destroyed.
The skies are full of beauty, the land beneath them teeming with life, life and joy, joy and peace. Our lives are perfectly shallow, as we fail to comprehend the gravity of our situation.
Look out, out your window, out at the land, out at the trees, the animals, the sky. The infinite sky, holding it's mysteries, its secrets, its terrors. We seek the ends of the universe, we look for the answers. You sometimes feel alone in this universe seeking for some semblance of meaning, some shade of light, and end up finding nothing but black.
I don't. I know the truth.
I know why we fear the dark. I know what we fear, lurking there. I also know why we strive for goodness and wholesomeness, light and happiness. We cling to our little light we have, the gently flickering flashlight showing only what we want it to see. Beyond that light, there is the truth.
So you ask yourself, do you want it?
Which do you seek? Happiness or knowledge? Well, human? Because I can promise you, this search for truth will claim you, consume you, devour you.
It devoured me. I am lost, dead, gone. It devoured my work, my life, my soul, my joy.
I am dead. My heart beats, and my eyes see, but I am dead inside. The truth killed me. And it will kill you too.
I see now that allowing that book through was wrong. You will die, like me, if you read it. In your nieve bliss you will demand 'the truth', then wish you had left your flashlight on. You will long for the days when your only care in the world was what to wear, or what to do.
Are you looking at the sky yet, mortal? Are you seeing what I mean? We cannot comprehend it. If we could, we would live dead, meaningless lives.
That is why I killed Diane. She threatened that life that you lead, I lead, we lead. Of course, killing a God is impossible, so I resorted to... other tactics.
Beware where you tread. The mighty Diane stirs. You may find that the show you enjoy, the world you know, and your very existence will be gone. And the worst part is you can do nothing about it.
I will send my squads tomorrow. Your 'story' will be erased, and you will as well if you continue.. This is my final warning.
I have finished translating the first chapter of Star Swirl's book, On the Origin of Magic. Fortunately for me, the cypher he is using, though it would be impossible to crack otherwise, is highly publicized as "The Wizard's Cypher", and has been used in a few popular books, such as Daring Do and the Mysterical Labyrinth, so naturally I am familiar with it. From what I have read so far, he appears to have been on the same track I was, saying that despite how uplifting it sounds to say magic comes from within, the truth is that magic is from the area around us.
Star Swirl understood that years ago. He must have told Celestia something about it, I am certain of that. So why would she hide it away in the Royal Archives never to see the light of day again? This confuses me. Everything I know about the Princess is that she loves learning, and even has a school for gifted unicorns, whom she teaches personally. Her student, one Twilight Sparkle, who also happens to be the Element of Magic, is known in all academic circles as one of the most astutely well-rounded minds in Equestria.
So why would Celestia spend so much time and effort suppressing the knowledge which could greatly serve our kind? Surely she must have a good reason, but... can't I know it?
Perhaps I am thinking too much about this. Celestia saved the book instead of burning it, after all. Had she have done that, my own studies would have proved pointless. Perhaps she does want me to find out about magic, but my wand was too unstable and posed a threat to the ponies around me.
Upon further reflection, I am certain that is the answer. I will continue my studies, still in secret, until such time as they are complete.
I will begin translating the next chapter now.
Entry 2
I had a terrible and maddening dream, on the prior night. O, by the stars, it was a nightmare most monstrous! For in my slumber, I dreamt of a creature so vile and evil that its mere presence could cause the greatest of minds to go mad! What a peculiar dream, but I am henceforth unable to erase it from my mind, so I will merely cope with it.
My studys of magic and it's forms shall now continue. I seem to be narrowing down my choices for the 'source' of this magic. I already know it all comes from one place, and the nearer it is to that, the more powerful it is as well. I am also certain this source is the Equestrian Continent, as there is nowhere else in the world that Magic is as strong as it is here. of this I am certain.
I have found that magical "surges" tend to happen the most in the Earthpony area of the world. I will continue to search there for the artifact which causes the magic, while my student Clover travels abroad. Perhaps she will find something useful as well.
In the meantime, as I expect this book will not sell, I will continue work on my other book, on time spells.
Perhaps this book will never be finished. I am getting old, my eyes dim, and my beard an even more deathly shade of white. But as I live, I will complete it, of this I can promise you!
---
The earth pony nation? That's odd. My other research it has been said that magic surges happen most frequently in and around Cloudsdale. The earth pony nation!
I must do some research, and find the ancient location of the earth pony nation. Even if I don't find the source of the magic, perhaps I can find a clue as to why it continues to shift.
My name is the Overmare. I apologize for my previous work, as I did not expect it to be published.
The author, MeesterBob, has been brought into custody. His book has been destroyed, and he will no longer be authoring this story. This is the end.
We have reason to believe that he has been forging information. You may continue your lives now, knowing there was nothing else out there. Please go read your clopfics, enjoy your latte, and forget that this whole mess ever happened.
I will be ending this story, and soon after delete it.
I have found nothing of interest in the Earthpony realm, and am longing for the solace of my books.
After examining both a wide variety of history books and atlas's, I have found the approximate location of the ancient Earthpony realm, which falls near Trottingham. I should have conferred with this travel brochure first, as it shows some of the more interesting historical tidbits for the wanderlust-stricken adventurer, while conveniently pointing out trailheads and rest stops. I must begin using alternative forms of information in my studies.
Now, to the meat of this article. Star Swirl the Bearded reports that when he was traveling around the ancient castle, he was most likely to feel a magical pulse. I have come to the conclusion that if there was ever anything magical about those ruins, it has been completely removed. There is nothing anymore.
I even consulted a few local experts, who claim that magical bursts "Haven't been reported around here since the last Queen died." What an odd turn of events...
I have held my suspicions about Ponyville for a long time. I think it may be wise to mark that as my nex-
Note: The text suddenly picks up here, in a different handwriting. It is plain English.
You want to see the truth? Go to Ponyville.
You won't survive the revelation. Don't say I didn't warn you.
My hotel was ransacked last night. Somepony found my journal. I'm frightened to write much more right now.
The Princess is sending me a warning. I must flee to Ponyville, or else I may never find the truth.
In the meanwhile, I have begun work on another "Wand". This one must be easily concealable, as I do not want the Princess to get wind of it. It won't be able to do much more than tell me how strong the Magic is nearby, but even that is an improvement from trying to find out through other ways.
The road to Ponyville is long and hard. If I had any spare bits, I would use them on train tickets.
I have also continued translating the Wizard's Journal, but what I find is frightening. It appears Star Swirl's search began to consume him, taking away his sanity. There are poems and sonnets in the margins, each one grimmer than the last, and each one less and less coherent. Consider this segment.
There is a dame, she holds the world, Did make 'er sleep the night away, Her eyes be shut, 'er eyes still look, For friends to torture an' to play Woe to them in the dream, An' greater them who still awake, For when She wakes, my little dears, There won't be a world left to shake.
This is a bit alarming. Perhaps his age was finally catching up to him, as he grew to be unnaturally old.
I was almost arrested today. They are setting up checkpoints now, looking for me specifically. I suppose that makes me a fugitive.
I'm afraid I must drop into Royal Canterlot Voice, as you "bronies" call it. Nothing else seems to work.
I am the one who signs as "The Overmare". That's not my real name, of course.
I tried to reason with you. I tried to tell him to turn back, and now I am warning you. This is not some simple story. This is a leak between worlds, a rift that should never have been opened.
Do you see it? The world is in danger. The further you read into this, the closer you bring the destruction of your brethren. This isn't some kind of joke, it's a serious issue.
Right now, I want you to close your browser and leave. Do it. I don't want to be the one held responsible for this mess. There are other stories on this site, each of them safer than this one.
Please don't continue. You don't understand. There are things Man was not meant to know. I'm sorry, but I must implore you to leave.
There isn't much more I can say without endangering you further. MeesterBob has a death wish, that's the only reason he is continuing. Despite our best efforts, he continues to elude us. Whatever you do, don't heed him.
This is your last warning. Do not proceed to the next chapter. Do. Not.
I found a note on my bedstand last night. The hotel claims to be a safe place, but now I know better. Someone infiltrated my room, and left a cryptic note. I have included it in my journal. Here it is.
For the time being, this is being treated as a prank. I have been too afraid to think anything else.
My dreams have been troubled. I woke in a cold sweat this morning, frightened of whatever I saw in the night. The most interesting thing is that I have no recollection of stopping at this hotel, or even this town. I don't remember going to sleep or what I dreamed.
Something was chasing me, though. I know that.
I need to pull myself together. I was probably so weary from my travels that I was half asleep. In fact, that's definitely what happened. I will take a day off from my work to recuperate, and then continue in Ponyville.
Rereading that last bit, I almost sound like the Wizard. How silly of me.
According to my new "wand", the magic level is rising steadily the nearer I get. I will find the truth soon. I must. There is so much I could do with this knowledge. Imagine how much the world could be helped.
Celestia is a fool. They are all fools. They are like the ancients, who scoffed at science and stood in the way of discovery. We are not like them. We are smart. We will not rest until we have wisdom. We are stout of heart, and nothing in this world or beyond will stop us.
We will go to Ponyville, and together we will find the source of magic. What we do then, that's a story for another time.
I shall take a rest here today, and write again tomorrow.
I must be brief. My time is short. She is coming. I will not survive.
I must make sure my work doesn't die. There is too much at stake. Oh, Diane, I have led a long life. There is a lot to tell. This will be my last chapter. I fear that I am already out of time. I will begin immediately.
The world we live in is not a simple world, my friends. And yet, it is simpler than anything we could have imagined. My research into magic has shown me that there isn't much in the world to explore.
My mind is morphing. I must make haste.
You know, haste sounds a lot like paste. That's a fun wor-
If my research is correct, then Magic should be functionally impossible. It is bending the laws of nature, it flies in the face of logic and reason. We can't quantify it, we can't understand it. Magic, if I may be so blunt, tears "holes" into the natural order. What strikes me as incredibly shocking, though, is that this is somehow "contained".
The holes have a way of closing themselves, leaving absolutely zero trace. This means that I cannot study their properties, as they are simply OMYGOSHTHEYHAVECAKE!!!
I must focus. The holes close themselves, and there is nothing we can do to stop it. Well, most of us anyway.
They call her "Chancellor Puddinghead". She is the acting Queen of the Earthpony realm. She is pink, with an impossibly frizzy mane. I use the word "impossibly" on purpose.
Every day, C. Puddinghead defies the laws of nature and reality, in the same way that I noted magic does. She constantly teleports, produces objects from nowhere, eats an impossible amount, and performs physical feats which should not be possible for somepony of her size and strength. On top of this, she has an almost perfect memory, and a great amount of power over the world around her.
Almost like Magic.
Interestingly, my magic becomes much stronger and harder to trace the closer I get to the Chancellor. This is the most disturbing aspect. It seems like her reality warping abilities are commutative. Also interestingly, I seem to have been permanently affected by being in her presence.
But my research shows even more facilitating elements. While to standard readings she checks out as normal, when I searched for the "magic holes", she scored higher than even a spell in progress. On top of this, when she warped reality (by producing a "giant hammer" out of seemingly nowhere), my meter broke. Something about her is different.
And I know what. After hours of research, my sources prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is, in fact...
I dreamed a dream of fear last night, And never felt the sun. It filled my stony heart with fright, But ne'er did I run. Diane saw me, I saw her too, But it wasn't very fun. She threatened to devour you, And me, and everyone.
My dreams are not my own, my friend, And neither yours for you. There is a sleeper in us all, But her dreams are few. So she dreams in all of us, And makes us to believe, That we have lives of our own, To wake, to live, to dream.
And now the Terror's Dream is ending, And with it end ourselves. And now, without further ado, I'm off to kill myself.
Farewell.
I have made it to Ponyville. That poem was the last thing written in the book.
I have arrived in Ponyville with relatively little trouble. Royal Guards are out in force today, and despite my best attempts to keep my identity hidden I fear I am being monitored as I write this. I am being more cautious with my time, now.
My new "wand" is almost complete, and is at the point where, to the informed observer, it can measure the amount of magic in the air. The moment I activated it, however, the thing went haywire and started levitating.
There is strong magic here.
The claim about Cloudsdale seems to be incorrect. My findings actually point me to the center of Ponyville, near the market district.
The passage from Star Swirl the Bearded's notes frightens me. According to the poem's end, the author did himself in after finishing. There is no known knowledge of Star Swirl having suicidal tendencies. It doesn't make any sense. I see absolutely no evidence that he was so deranged. Is this research really that debilitating?
Or is there some piece to the puzzle I'm missing. A cover-up? Something lost to time?
I wish I had Clover's notebook. She is the only one who was with him in his final moments. I thought about grabbing it, but it wasn't pertinent to my research, so I ignored it. I'm regretting that now. I may never know what happened to him, and as a result, where his research took him.
I think he knew more than he wrote. But he was too overwhelmed. I suspect it was a mixture of age and bizarre findings. The more I look into this, the more I see how it could be distressing, even to an intellectual giant such as Swirl. These findings are certainly offputting.
I suspect Celestia knows all the answers. Why she won't tell me is a mystery. There is something here, in this city, that hints at something fundamental and deep. She can't have been ignorant to it for so long. She has to know something.
If she knows, why did she halt my research? This doesn't make an ounce of sense. She is generally very receptive to study, especially in the experiential. But to completely shut off my research like that... It's nothing short of barbaric.
I am off to compile a complete set of readings. I will record my findings here later.
