Featured: 2.25.15! Thanks so much! Discord - the Spirit of Chaos - is troubled. For the last several days, he has felt things more sharply. His body feels sluggish, and his mind more so. Realizing it all began with the rise and fall of Tirek, he seeks out the ponies he feels can best help him.
Friendship is magic, after all, and this is a matter of magic. And Discord, the Spirit of Chaos, has none.
Alternate Universe tag added. Rating heightened to Teen.
Summer in Ponyville was a glorious time. Down any road saw ponies enjoying the day to the fullest, whether it was selling their wares, filling their stomachs, or simply playing with friends. After the trouble with Tirek, the citizens of Ponyville - and, of course, the rest of Equestria - better appreciated their innate magic. It was not explicit, but it could be seen and felt in the way ponies handled themselves.
The alicorn responsible for restoring their magic had been awarded with a newfound assurance in her title, as well as a crystalline tree-like palace. Despite how it stood out from the landscape, the residents took to it well. It was less an eyesore and more a trophy; a symbol that their home was also the home of a heroine. And there was someone standing outside the doors to that palace.
He made for an interesting sight. An amalgamation of creatures all created one unlike any seen in the world, standing outside a set of golden doors. He was clearly hesitant, and passers-by could barely make out the hint of fear that shone behind his eyes. The draconequus - the only one in existence - had been mustering up the courage to knock for the last ten minutes.
Eventually, he did. And when he finally knocked, he allowed himself exactly two seconds before letting himself into the palace of Twilight Sparkle. That, as well, was an interesting sight to behold, since the Princess of Friendship kept an open-door policy. The other Royals may keep court hours and meetings, but not her. Knocking from anypony was purely a courtesy.
The entryway was just as he remembered it: cut from stone, imbued with magic, and decorated loftily from one corner to the next. He quietly made his way up the staircase, which led him into the next hallway. A series of doors on either side met him, and he knew that the one pony he sought was behind one of them.
He cleared his throat. “Twilight?” he called. The echoes of his voice answered him.
“Twilight?” he tried again, louder this time. A moment later, one of the doors to his left opened, and a purple head with green spines poked out to look at him.
“Oh, it's Discord. Hey,” Spike greeted.
Discord nodded and gave a wave.
“Sorry we didn't hear you come in. Twilight’s been going through the new library recently, and she tends to get addle-brained from the work.”
“I had a feeling she would be busy, but..." Discord hesitated. He looked over Spike into the library (an easy task, really). "Something's come up, and if I could possibly borrow her for a moment, I would feel so much better.”
The dragon gave a quizzical look. “This isn’t some prank that Rainbow Dash put you up to, is it? I know she wants to get me back for putting hot sauce in her smoothie last week.”
“Oh, that was you!” Discord laughed. “Classic. Well, no, this isn’t any prank. It’s actually kind of serious.”
Spike waited a moment, just looking at the towering creature, before he shrugged and walked back through the open door. Discord followed at a small distance, taking one step for every three of Spike’s.
The dragon had not been lying. Twilight’s new library, though certainly impressive, was in a state of disarray. Books, carts of books, and a line of carts for books were all scattered around the wing - some clearly in use, others ignored for a day or more. The shelves along the wall were slowly being filled, most of them held in place by Twilight’s distinctive purple aura of magic. Twilight herself was standing in the middle of the chaos, looking from one shelf to the next before pulling out a book from one of the many piles. She would read the spine, give a nod or a shake, then - depending on her judgment - either place the book on a spot along the wall, or drop it where it was and begin an entirely new pile.
“Good luck getting her attention. My record today has been four minutes, and that was for lunch,” Spike warned before padding toward the library’s second floor. Discord waved at him, then gingerly made his way through the warzone.
A moment later, he stood behind the alicorn. “Twilight?” he called.
Just like Spike had warned, Twilight’s focus was totally centered on her work, and thus she didn’t register her name being called. He tried two more times - “Twilight Sparkle?”, “Princess Pony-Pal?” - before deciding to try another approach. Clearly she was more interested in her books, so he needed to draw her attention with one.
When she began to float one book toward her, he merely reached out and grabbed it. With it stopped, Twilight finally broke out of her zone with a confused grunt. She looked over her withers, finally seeing her guest.
"Afternoon."
“Gah!” she screamed, dispelling all of her magic at once. Several clunks sounded throughout the library, including some from the second-floor study followed by a groan from Spike. Twilight, shaking her head to clear her confusion, finally looked at Discord properly.
“Sorry,” he began. “But I wasn’t sure how else to get your attention.”
She gave a hearty sigh. “Why does everypony resort to surprising me?” she muttered. “Don’t they know I have a name?”
Discord raised a lion-finger to make a point, but decided against it. That sort of thing could wait. The reason he came here could not. “Yes, well, listen. Could I borrow you for a moment? I have something of a problem, and...well, it’s rather new to me.”
Twilight gave him a suspicious look, then turned to consider the state of her library. “I guess I could, at least for a few minutes. What’s going on?”
‘Finally,’ he thought. With a nervous gulp, Discord looked toward the messy floor. “You remember how...Tirek betrayed me before he came for you? And then you and our friends restored the magic he stole to all of Equestria?”
A scoff. “Yeah, like I could forget it. You’re not here to talk about him, are you?” She slowly picked up a book from the floor near her. Discord got a good look at the cover; it was the collective journal of the six friends.
“No, not exactly.”
“So?” Twilight prompted. Unseen to both of them, Spike had poked his head over the railing of the second floor, watching the exchange with interest.
Discord swallowed his anxiety, then came clean. “Twilight...I never got my magic back.”
The journal hit the ground with a loud thunk, then silence.
Twilight pranced about in front of Discord, himself awkwardly sitting on one of the many pony-sized chairs strewn about the library. It had been only a few precious minutes since he told Twilight of his problem. She had met the issue with some understandable skepticism - Discord was a magical being, after all, so his very existence would have trumped his worries.
The purple pony princess ducked behind a nearby doorway, soon returning with a small device that would have outdone any Nightmare Night decoration. It was metallic, angled with various tubes and gauges, and sported anywhere from two to twenty small nodes held in place by plastic clamps. She struggled with lifting the apparatus in her magic, showing just how heavy it really was. To his surprise, many of the gauges and readings were active within her aura of magic. Twilight set the device down on the floor in front of Discord, then turned her attention to the various nodes. With the magic gone, the gauges immediately sped to zero.
“I hope you don’t mind if I make sure. Uh, from where is your magic usually controlled?”
Discord didn’t look away from the intimidating device. He swore it was smiling at him. “What's that now?”
“You know, the part of your body that usually controls your magic. On a unicorn, it would be her horn. Do you have anything like that?”
“Hm...” Discord took a moment to look over his body. “You know, I’ve never needed to find out. My magic has always been a part of me, and I controlled it as naturally as breathing. It never felt like it was in any one place.”
Twilight groaned. “It was never centralized? Like, in your fingers when you snap? Your wrists? The back of your head?”
The draconequus shrugged, then went back to staring at the grinning machine. “Why do you need to know, anyway? And what will this thing do?”
“This?” She casually lifted a selection of nodes in the air, inspecting them one by one. “It’s my personal Thaumatic gauge. There’s usually one in any hospital that accepts unicorn patients, and it's meant to measure their magical output in case an overload occurs. This particular one I got on special order. Like any other gauge, it can measure magical potential, but it’s also been modified for the Elements of Harmony...that is, back when we had them.”
“So you’re saying I’m sick?” Discord asked. The device seemed to smile wider with the nodes detached.
Twilight shook her head, then moved on with her inspection. “I don’t know yet. This device should tell me how much magic is still present within you.”
“I just told you, though...”
“I know, I know. But if I’m going to help you, I need data. Readings. As many Thaums as I can gauge.”
“Are you enjoying this turn of events?” Discord asked. He instinctively sunk deeper into the too-small chair, trying to distance himself from the device.
To her credit, Twilight gasped and looked him square in the eye. “Don’t be absurd! Anyone who loses their special talent would be lost and frustrated! I know that from personal experience. Losing magic is like losing a part of yourself.”
Discord nodded and relaxed, inch by inch, back into the chair. Then promptly tensed again when Twilight added “I can’t say you don’t deserve it a little, though.”
“Wait, what-”
He was cut off by the sight of plastic and metal waving in front of his elongated muzzle. Twilight was speaking again, and he had to focus to catch her words. “-ince you’re a magical being, I guess I can just place these anywhere. You’re not ticklish, are you?”
Discord blanched. “You are enjoying this!”
Cold. The nodes were cold. The first one pressed right up against his forehead. Then another - cold! - at the top of his snout. Then more, all over. He swore there were more nodes on him than there had been on the machine when Twilight had brought it out! ‘And are some of those color-coded?’ he thought.
Discord, shaking off the shock from the contact, looked at Twilight while she moved behind her device. Several web-thin cords fed into the apparatus, each one connected to a node on his body. The machine truly looked like a predator happy to have caught its prey.
“This won’t hurt, will it?” he tentatively asked.
“Well, in theory, it-”
“Nevermind, I don’t want to know.”
“...hm, suit yourself. Now, all I need from you is to keep breathing normally. If you start to feel panicked, let me know. Heightened emotions tend to affect the readings.”
“Breathe. Okay.”
Twilight’s horn sparked to life one more, and this time she magically gripped just one part of the gauge: a small green lever. “Seriously. I’ve used this machine on many unicorns, but never on a creature quite like you. My machine is harmless...I just don't know for sure what will happen. Stay calm for me, okay?”
Discord closed his eyes, ignoring the toothy grin. “Breathe. Okay,” he repeated.
With a nod, Twilight turned to look at her Thaumatic gauge, waited a beat, then willed the lever down. The machine instantly began to whir, and the pins in a few small readouts began to spin as they initialized. She split her focus between three particular gauges, each of which was meant to measure a different aspect on magic. For a while, all three of them remained at zero.
The draconequus focused He shut out the noise of the apparatus and the image of its manic mechanical mouth. For several moments, he only paid attention to his own breathing. He prided himself in that - learning to remain calm was among the first crucial skills he had gained after losing to Celestia and Luna. Spending time as a statue for a millenium was nothing to sneeze at.
A few minutes passed before the whirring of the Thaumatic gauge finally quieted. Discord opened one eye, immediately noticing that Twilight had her back turned to him. She was still considering her readout. With another deep breath to prepare to the facts, Discord opened both eyes properly.
“Well?” he prompted.
Twilight began to tremble. It was subtle at first; Spike, watching from upstairs, didn’t yet notice it. But after a moment, the trembles intensified. Twilight was slowly shaking her head, denying whatever it was she saw.
Discord let out the breath he had taken in. ‘That can’t be good.’
“I...wait, but this...” she was muttering to herself. Lifting a hoof, Twilight tapped on the glass to her gauge, causing the pins inside to shake within their housings. There was one that she kept returning to, as well - a larger, half-circle readout that sat above the set of three, a set of stars within the trunk of a tree resting in its center.
Discord craned his neck, noticing that the pin rested at zero. A second later, Twilight slowly turned to face him. She looked mortified.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I thought you were joking.”
The draconequus gave a sad but knowing nod. “I thought so.” The reply was both in response to her, and to what he now knew was fact.
“Discord, you...”
“What can you tell me?” he asked, just as eager for data as she.
Twilight blinked. She couldn’t help but notice a change in his posture. Despite sitting on a cramp-inducing chair, Discord looked entirely defeated. Nothing about him was tense or prepared for an argument...he was just there.
She turned halfway, and began to explain after a moment. “I...” She cleared her throat and tried again. “There was no Thaumatic reaction whatsoever. The three main gauges...uh, the ones that measure unicorn, pegasus, and earth pony magic respectively, all stayed at zero. I was...expecting that.” She shot him a guilty look. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re not like us. I had no reason to expect those to move."
Discord gave a sigh. Of course he had to be considered different by pony standards. Then again, he couldn’t - and indeed didn’t - fault her for the assumption.
“But this one here-” she turned and tapped on the final gauge, the one with the odd symbol, “-is what’s worrying me the most.”
“What’s that one mean?”
“I had to modify this one for the machine. It measures the connection somepony has to the essence of Harmony as a magical force. Essentially, how closely aligned he or she is to the power from the Tree of Harmony itself. And, well...”
Discord huffed. He knew exactly what had happened. “Let me guess. It didn’t move either,” he said as he gently popped off the various nodes.
Twilight gave a violent shake of her head. “It doesn’t make sense! Our culture has centralized the virtues of harmony! Everyone has some measure of it within, but it didn’t work.” With a sudden jolt, she moved to the back side of the Thaumatic gauge. She was frantic, yet focused, an odd combination to see. “This isn’t broken, is it? Have I missed something? Spike, I need your help!”
The draconequus reached out his lion paw and gently laid it across Twilight’s withers. “Your contraption isn’t broken, Twilight Sparkle. I’m certain it’s working just fine.”
She shook him off. “No, that can’t be right. How could it possibly not register the power of Harmony? Even Spike has been exposed to enough magic to cause it to jump! What am I missing?”
“I’m over here.”
“Huh?” she grunted, looking his way again. “Wh-what do you mean?”
Discord gave a small laugh. ‘I thought she would have figured it out by now.’ “Well, what am I? Not a pony, as you already said. What else is there?”
Twilight, confused by the sudden question, looked him over. She took stock of his figure, all the different animal parts that made up his body. In the back of her mind, she remembered the first time she had laid eyes on him.
It had been right as she and her friends had reached the entrance to the hedge labyrinth in Canterlot. He had appeared before them in a flash of light, reared back, and gave a gleeful laugh under branches of lightning. He had been quite intimidating back then, and in some respects still was. But that was just what she had seen. What else was there? The personality, the history with Celestia, the particular kind of magic he-
Her eyes sparkled with a realization. “Oh...no...”
“Now you get it.”
“But that...that means any method I have to help you won’t work!”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Discord! This is serious! If your magic is the opposite of Harmony...!”
Once again, he set his paw on her withers, calming her down a little at a time. “Then you were never able to return it when you returned everypony else’s. I know.”
“But-”
“I’ve known for a while, actually. ‘Spirit of Chaos and Disharmony’ and all that. I just wanted to make sure, to hear it from somepony I respected.”
It was Twilight’s turn to look defeated. She had never, never considered this consequence to her actions. When she had harnessed the gift to defeat Tirek, the pure power seemed to tell her exactly what to do. It was otherworldly, yet more thrilling than anything she had ever experienced. She didn’t have to think about what to do - she just acted.
Of course, that was all for the magic of ponykind, the residents who shared Equestria and called it their home. The Tree of Harmony and the power it contained helped give strength to the land, and it was that same power that had allowed their stolen magic to be returned when Tirek had been beaten. And the one creature she knew whose power was the antithesis of Harmony’s virtues had been completely excluded, despite the fact that he was just as much a victim.
For once in her life, a problem had arisen purely because she had relied on the magic of friendship. Harmony had left someone out.
She blinked back tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
They were silent for a while. Discord took his paw away and rested it on his lap instead, coping with the fact that he was as powerless as a common woodland critter. He entertained the thought of behaving like one for the amusement of Fluttershy, but of course she would never stand for that. Besides, he would sooner eat paper again than alfalfa pellets.
Eventually, he stood up, stretched his cramped limbs, and turned to leave. As he walked - dragging his feet, no less - he spotted little Spike, looking his way from the library’s staircase. Discord gave him a small smile, one that simply thanked the dragon for letting him in.
“Wait!” Twilight called.
Discord turned his neck to look at her. She stood among the dropped nodes and their cords, ignoring them and what they had shown her. Instead, she looked directly at him, her gaze still pitiful but with a small glint of desperation as well.
“I want to help,” she said. “Is there anything I can do? Can I make this better?”
Discord hesitated, then shot her a sidelong smile. “Don’t lose sleep over me, Twilight. As you said, maybe I deserve this.”
“I didn’t-...no, I didn’t mean that!” she shouted, stepping over the nodes like they were brambles. “It was a joke, and I feel stupid for making it. You’ve changed, Discord! You were going to use your magic for good, right? What you deserve is to have it!”
“I betrayed you, didn’t I? And this is my way of paying the price.”
“Well, I don’t like it. You may have betrayed us, but we’ve forgiven you. I’m going to find a way to make this better, I promise.”
Discord’s smile widened, warmer in the face of her genuine concern. “I don’t think it will be of any use. But...thank you.”
Without another word, Discord left the library and shut the door behind him. Twilight and Spike were left alone in the library amidst the silent books and still-grinning Thaumatic gauge. It was a good minute before the pony moved. She looked down at her hooves, finally noticing that she had been standing on her books. Some of the pages were being pulled out of the spine due to the pressure.
Twilight swallowed a lump, took a deep breath, and focused. She looked at her dragon friend. “Change of plans, Spike,” she said in a shaky voice. “Shelving day will need to wait. Right now I need to send a letter.”
In another circumstance, the town would be in a much different state. The grass would be speckled with a pattern of garish colors, the roads would be coated with soap and bubbles, and the buildings themselves would be thrown into stasis. Anomalies would occur in every corner - buffalos in tutus, piglets with wings, giant shakers of pepper spilling their contents on passers-by. Ponies would laugh, then would scream, then would beg for their world to return to normal.
Snap.
Normalcy. Such a nice, clean, boring aspect. A normal day in a normal life, where the only concern of a mother was what flavor of jelly to pair with peanut butter. Where a child needn’t worry about losing his way home, or forgetting where the edge of the dangerous forest began. Where friends were friendly, families were loving, and nothing unexpected ever happened. At least, not without a swift intervention by a group of heroines.
Snap.
Discord used to hate ‘normal.’ He used to hate order and sense, choosing instead to inject his own brand of peculiarity. Music from rocks, chocolate from clouds, solid structures changed to flimsy cardboard. There was simply no fun in making sense, so he chose nonsense. It was and always has been a conflict of order versus chaos, one that he enjoyed even in defeat. He was unique in his abilities, his form, and his desire, and he proudly wore that fact like a badge.
Now order had won once again, but this time it was different. ‘Normal’ had changed.
Snap.
Two ponies whipped their eyes toward Discord, himself holding his outstretched eagle-hand toward them. The sound of his snapping fingers flew around their heads for a split second. Both of the ponies were surprised on two accounts. The first was that Discord, who had sworn not to use his powers on Ponyville citizens, had just attempted to do just that. The second was that nothing had happened despite his attempt.
Discord didn’t look at them as they slowly continued on. He instead stared at his hand, pressing his fingers together once again. His gaze shifted to a nearby flower. Snap. In his mind’s eye, the flower grew to the size of a building and began to sing every song in Equestrian culture off-key. But the flower, of course, remained a flower, silent and beautiful and boring.
‘Normal.’ He began to hate it once again.
Discord withdrew his hand and began to wander aimlessly through Ponyville’s center. Ponies who personally knew him simply stepped aside, while those who simply knew his reputation actively avoided his path. In all cases, the populace left him to his thoughts, which were as chaotic as his nature. Of course, this time, the chaos brought him no glee.
His thoughts were rampant, saddened, wistful, and senseless. They were not the product of his scheming or pranking, but the result of something else. His mind wasn’t part of the cause, just the effect. Discord scoffed at himself. He was having a reaction to the news. And a reaction like this was perfectly normal.
He paused and looked around. Normal ponies would not be avoided. If a pony was seen walking down the road with a long face, no fewer than four other ponies would flock to their side. Chances were high that one of those ponies would be Pinkie Pie. What made this brand of ‘normal’ different?
The answer was obvious. ‘Normal’ wasn’t what had changed. The concept of normalcy was his opposite, the yin to his yang. He was chaos incarnate, the Spirit of Disharmony, and as such ‘normal’ was simply not possible for him. It was a way of life he had never practiced. Yet here he was, as typical as a common cloud. The normal way of life had brought him into its fold. Change had found him.
He kicked a nearby stone and sent it tumbling along the road. ‘I knew there was a reason. There was always a reason why I hated normal.’
He decided he was angry. He did not decide at whom.
Discord looked at the distant rock he had just kicked. Snap. The rock remained a rock.
It was some time later when he spotted her. Of course it would be her; who else? Out of all the ponies he considered friends, she was by far the most genuine. It came as no surprise that she would have been told the news, and neither was it a surprise that she would seek him out. She was searching the buildings one by one, looking on the ground when her target was above it. Door after door she opened, window after window she peered through, each time never losing pace.
Eventually, he decided to help her out. As she passed beneath him, he gripped a tuft of straw, pulled it loose, and let it fall to the ground. Many strands fell on her mane (and face, when she finally looked up), causing her to shake herself clean. Discord held up a hand to greet her, but didn’t say a word.
Fluttershy was too concerned to be embarrassed about the straw. She spread her wings and leaped up to the roof, where Discord sat waiting for her. She didn’t waste any time before speaking her mind.
“Discord! Are you okay? Twilight told me what happened! Well, it was actually Spike who told me, because he came and found me earlier and told me on the way to the castle. How are you feeling? Can I-”
Discord silenced her by gently placing his lion paw atop her head. With the soft pressure, Fluttershy stopped mid-syllable and looked around her mane at him. He gave a silent laugh, then rubbed her head. Her mane instantly went from ‘free flow’ to ‘bed head.’
She shook herself free. “Discord!” she scoffed.
“Good to see you, Fluttershy, but one question at a time, hm?”
She paused to pat down her mane. “Are you...are you okay?”
He gave a grim smile. It could just as easily have been a frown. Fluttershy wasn’t sure.
“Uhm...what are you doing?”
“Oh, just enjoying the sunset.”
“...it’s just past three in the afternoon.”
He nodded. “I suppose it is.”
“And you’re facing east. The sun sets in the west, you know.”
“Hm. I suppose it does.”
Fluttershy nodded. “You’re not okay, then?”
Another grim smile-frown.
Both were silent for a while. It dawned on Fluttershy that perhaps her friend didn’t want to talk about the latest development in his life. For a fleeting moment, she considered leaving him to his thoughts while she went about her day. Then she considered it some more as the silence stretched on.
She reached a decision, and sat down next to him. “Um, ah...nice sunset...?” she pried.
“Fluttershy, I know you mean well, but you don’t need to pretend for my sake.”
The pegasus shrunk and looked in his direction. He had very nearly spat the words at her, but she could see regret cross his muzzle after he said them. Discord’s eyes shifted, caught her looking his way, then shifted again.
“Sorry.”
After a moment, she lightly tapped his coiled tail in a gesture of comfort. “It’s okay.”
They were silent once more. Fluttershy again thought about leaving her friend to his demons, but decided that since she had already planted herself, she should stay. This was for him, after all - he had the problem to overcome. So, with patience honed from years of watching over forest critters, she sat and waited for him to start.
It was a solid four minutes before he did. “How do you do it?”
The pegasus allowed herself a moment’s grin in victory. “Do what?”
“Live each day like this?” Discord swept his eagle arm outward, gesturing to the town and landscape beyond.
“...um, what’s wrong with this?” She blinked. “It. What’s wrong with it?”
Discord scoffed. “Nothing. Everything. I don’t know...this is just so boring! How can you stand it?”
“Well, I...have my friends to see, the critters in the meadows and forests to care for, and sometimes...something unexpected happens that we need to correct. Those all tend to make days quite lively, and not, uhm...boring.”
The draconequus cocked an eyebrow. “What if you woke up one day and discovered that everything you knew was different? Or even worse, just barely out of reach?”
“I think I would look for the good side in things. You know, the things that hadn’t changed and I could still enjoy. Like tea parties and sleepovers.”
“Hm. Different question, then.” He slowly reached over and took hold of one of her feathers. The sensation of it being tugged made her want to recoil. “What if you woke up tomorrow and discovered you were missing your wings?”
Fluttershy was silent. She looked from his face to his lion hand then to her wing. “I...” She hesitated. “...I’m not sure.”
“But why not? Isn’t there a ‘good side’ to it? Wouldn’t you still be able to visit your friends and enjoy your tea parties?”
“I- well...you’re right, of course. I would still be able to do some things that I enjoy...but not being able to fly? I...actually, I think I would get used to it after a while.”
Discord blew raspberries and turned away. “Get used to being something you’re not? Get used to never touching clouds again or flying with your little birds? I get the feeling you didn’t really think about you answer.”
“Hey, there’s no need to be mean about it!” she scolded. Discord only gazed at the town in response. “To be fair, being without my wings has only happened once. You remember when, don’t you? And when it happened, it didn’t matter. I needed to stay on the ground anyway.”
“Mm-hmm,” he muttered, still unconvinced. “So you know why I’m up here, don’t you?”
“...yes.”
“Think of me as a bird, Fluttershy. A full-grown falcon, who is proud to fly in the sky and roost in the trees. Now think of me without those wings.”
“That’s not the same thing, though,” she argued. “A bird needs its wings in order to live. To survive each and every day. They’re fundamental to-”
“So you think my magic isn’t fundamental to me?” he spat.
Fluttershy hesitated again. This was proving far more than she had expected. “...no. I just...think you’ll be able to live even without your magic. It was a big part of you, yes, but not all of you. You should be able to live happily without it...”
Discord waited a moment. Then he said “How ridiculous,” slid off the rooftop, landed on the dirt road beneath, and began walking back into town.
Fluttershy was flustered. For the third time, she thought about leaving him alone. But for the second time, she mentally argued that she had already made her decision. She just realized that the choice she had made was the hard one, perhaps the hardest in a long time. The pony swallowed her doubt and decided to try again, gliding off the rooftop to join her friend.
Ahead of her, Discord glowered at anypony unlucky enough to cross his path. He still hadn’t decided who deserved his anger.
“...is that it never changes. It’s a constant in the world, an anchor, a fact of life. It holds back free spirits.”
“But it’s nice to have something solid to lean on, don’t you think? A point that somepony can always return to if they feel lost! I think of it like a family home.”
“And for those of us with no family?”
“A home is still home.”
Discord swallowed the hurtful scoff that crept up his throat. “That home can just as easily be a prison, Fluttershy. Maybe one day you’ll understand that.”
The shadows of the two friends began to stretch before them, casting two distinct shapes on the road below. On one side, a tall, lanky figure that lacked cohesion yet defied logic by simply existing. On the other, a constant shifting as appendages went up and down, holding aloft a concerned mass of coat, mane, and feathers. The pair was unique in one regard - the shadow of the pony was willingly staying near that of the draconequus. All other shadows, and the ponies to whom they belonged, carefully moved around them.
The isolation was lost on Fluttershy, but not on Discord. How could it be, when it was a constant fact of his own day-to-day? By all rights he should have been used to the wide berths, but today he was considering them in a new light. The same could be said for the weather. For what felt like the first time, he was uncomfortable beneath the summer sun and dry breeze. Still more subtle things that he never had to consider before.
“I’m normal,” Fluttershy began at length. “Do you think I’m some keeper of a prison?”
Discord couldn’t hold back his scoff any further. “Pheh. No offense, but you would probably give a criminal all the comforts he would ask for. A fluffy bed, tea every day, books and board games and toys and everything else he could think up. You, dear Fluttershy, would make a prison cell more welcome than any home.”
The pegasus considered his words for a moment before realizing he was actually paying her a compliment. She smiled and increased her flight speed (by a margin of point-two wing power), catching up to her fiendish friend. The two of them reached the edge of Ponyville by the time she returned to his side.
“So you don’t like normal simply because it doesn’t change?” she asked.
“Of course.”
“Why? There are lots of things to enjoy in a normal day, right?”
Discord shrugged. “There are, yeah, and you’ve been able to show me a lot of them. Those experiences are ones I do not regret.”
“Then help me understand. What makes a normal day so bad? How is it like a prison?”
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he continued to wander along the road, putting more distance between them and the town. It was a relief to him, really: the fewer gawking stares, the better.
It was no secret that the town still held reservations about him. Having to go through the “Chaos Capital of the World” was a nasty business, and forgiveness for his actions had not come easily. Most of the time, it barely came at all until Fluttershy intervened. In truth, the residents of Ponyville tolerated Discord more than welcomed him, like he were a constant pest or a bad salespony. Reformation or no, his very presence brought up unpleasant memories better left forgotten.
Of course, the outskirts of Ponyville were hardly any better, considering the direction Discord was heading. The bad experiences of the residents were guilt enough - now he had accidentally walked to the clearing where he had turned on his friends. He had betrayed them, only to be betrayed in turn.
The memory swelled. A shift in the air. His stomach turning on itself. A river of energy, itself formless, flowing from his mouth and out into the world, to be claimed by the centaur who was once his ally. The pain he felt wasn’t really pain, but a severe discomfort, like an illness that struck every nerve with a new symptom. The theft of his power was draining. He genuinely felt his control being taken away, replaced by emptiness. Gods above, this was what he had subjected Fluttershy to. This was what he had seen done to legions of ponies all around the realm. What kind of monster would allow this?
Shame and anger mixed within the recesses of Discord’s mind. Strange, he almost had a name for whom he should blame.
“Discord?” his friend called.
“It’s not you,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry, what was that?”
“You are not the prison keeper, Fluttershy.” He spared a moment to swing his arm backwards, gesturing toward the town. “They are.”
Fluttershy gave a shocked little squeak. “What have they been doing this time?”
“You didn’t even see it?” He looked at her incredulously. “We’ve been left alone for our entire walk, Fluttershy. All those fellow ponies back there gave us as much room as they needed.”
“...you mean as much room as we needed?”
Another scoff. This one was harsher. “No.”
The pegasus touched down and looked back toward her home. “Uhm, well, we’ve managed to deal with them giving you...space. This isn’t anything different, right?”
“Different?” he asked. Then he turned to look at the town, scowled, turned back, and sat down on the road. “No. I’m only now seeing it for what it truly is. I’m not welcome here.”
“Oh, but of course you are!”
“Just by you? That makes it an oddity.”
“But what about our friends? Twilight, Rarity, the others?”
“Then that makes it a clique. Good job, we’re all more socially tied to each other than to anypony else.”
“That doesn’t make it wrong!”
Discord’s eyebrows climbed. He rarely heard her raise her voice, least of all at him. Well, not lately, anyway.
Fluttershy stepped in front of him, wanting his full attention. “Maybe you’re not used to this sort of thing, but my friends and I have handled this before. Granted, at first, we were no better than everypony else, but that changed with time!”
“What, did you have to make play-dates with another draconequus before me? Because that’s a little on the impossible side of the fence,” Discord said, extending his arms outward to show off his unique body structure. “There’s only room for one Spirit of Chaos here, and you’re looking at what it was.”
Fluttershy caught the past tense, but ignored it. “Not a draconequus, no. But with other creatures we weren’t used to. You know our friend Zecora?”
‘Oh, goodness,’ he mentally groaned. Personally, he could never stomach her innate rhyming.
“For a long time,” Fluttershy went on, “she visited Ponyville to gather herbs and supplies. And until a couple years ago, the entire town shut its doors to her. We didn’t bother to get to know Zecora for who she was, and instead made up stories of our own just because she was different. We were mean and unfair to her.”
Discord chuckled despite himself. “The word you’re looking for is ‘racist,’ dear.”
She hesitated.
“Don’t feel bad,” he continued. “Your town is far from the only one to feel that way. At least this place eventually warmed up to her.”
“Yes...” she muttered, then once more with conviction. “Yes. That’s right. We took the time to get to know her, the real her, and not some rumor that had been floating around. Now look at her! She’s as welcome in the town as anyone. She has her own friends, us included, and even takes times to entertain the fillies.”
“So you think my time will eventually come to be accepted?”
She gently touched her hoof to his leg. “Without a doubt.”
To his credit, Discord waited a few solid seconds before turning away. “Great. I’m to make friends with the keepers of my prison.”
Fluttershy didn’t often groan. When she did, it came out harsher than ponies would expect, but also higher pitched. The result was not unlike gravel scraping across ice. Needless to say, both friends flinched at the sound that Fluttershy gave at that moment.
“Does that offend you?” Discord asked as he wiggled an eagle-finger in his ear.
“Well, it...yes, it kind of does. The ponies of this town are also my friends, and it’s hard to hear you insult them like that.”
The pair began moving again, reaching a small grove by the roadside. Discord propped his back against a tree, while Fluttershy stayed on the ground. “I suppose it’s a tough pill to swallow.”
Fluttershy’s ear twitched. “That, uhm, wasn’t an apology.”
“No, it was not.”
“So you’re not convinced?”
He allowed himself a small grin, ironic in the circumstances. “No, my dear, I am not. You’re not wrong about your zebra friend, of course. But it doesn’t change the facts as they are. Besides, she and I are in different situations.”
Fluttershy took a moment to look at him. It was obvious that Discord was more upset than he was letting on - the few times he had snapped at her made that clear. More distressing, however, was the way he seemed cynical about their entire conversation. This was a far cry from his usual silly banter.
So when she asked her next question, she mentally prepared for a sharp reply. “Different how?”
Discord hesitated, then blew a raspberry. Fluttershy had to sidestep to avoid the spittle. “It’s not hard to figure out. You and your town were mistaken about the zebra from the beginning. When you finally found the truth, you all collectively swallowed your pride and let her into your fold. Must have been a bitter taste, eh? As for me...well, nopony was mistaken about me in the slightest when I was set free. All of you saw who and what I was from the start. There was no great misunderstanding to overcome.”
“But you’ve been doing good things! Ponies have seen how you’ve changed!”
“I sold you out.”
“You-” Fluttershy faltered. “But, uhm...”
“Stop. You can’t deny it. Nobody can. It’s just another part of the larger truth, isn’t it?”
“Discord, you don’t-”
She was cut off with a wave of his lion-hand. “I bought in to Tirek’s offer of freedom. I sold you and your friends out to him. I regressed into old habits and helped him drain Equestria of its magic. And it was only through the little trust I had gained with the ponies that he was able to get so close, and to so many at once. The entire realm saw that; I followed his plan with hardly a second thought. So what change is there to speak of? What good have I actually done?”
Several seconds passed before she replied. “You regret it, don’t you?”
“What prisoner doesn’t regret his actions? It makes no difference, Fluttershy. This home of yours is stifling to me, and the looks your neighbors give me are either fearful or spiteful. A prison and its keepers, and now...” He looked over his hands, trying to grasp the empty air. There was no power between his fingers. “A prisoner, rightfully shackled.”
Fluttershy wasn’t beaten. She swallowed her mounting anxiety and pressed on. “I still believe that the ponies here are very open and forgiving. You’re right...you and Zecora were in different situations. But what about you and Spike?”
Intrigued, Discord looked up with a raised eyebrow. “The little drake? He’s adored by every mare in the town.”
“Yes, but there was a time he lost control of himself. Grew taller than all of the buildings and went on a greedy rampage.”
“Ah.”
Fluttershy nodded. “He was terrifying. We knew it was him and tried to stop him, but he was past reason. Eventually, Rarity was able to get through to him, but not before he did some major damage to the town. Despite that, we all eventually forgave him, and he’s a more mature dragon in the end because of it.”
“Mm-hmm. You’re saying that Spike and I are alike because he once trashed Ponyville and was forgiven anyway.”
“Right!” She was pleased to have finally made a connection. But her grin fell as Discord shook his head.
“Spike was already adored by the town long before his little episode with greed, my dear,” Discord explained. “I, on the other hand, was introduced as a monstrous villain from the beginning. It’s so much easier to forgive a creature, when that creature is already your friend.”
“What I mean to say is that you can still change their minds about you. Spike was able to earn everypony’s trust again, despite tearing through the town. If there’s a chance for him, there can be a chance for you.”
Discord shook his head again. “My situation is still fundamentally different than his was.”
“We’re still a forgiving town. It’s normal for strange things to happen here, and I rarely see anypony hold a grudge. Least of all toward somepony working so hard to earn forgiveness.”
“‘Normal,’ again? A thaumaphage is hardly normal, and neither is a Spirit of Chaos. Such beings don’t deserve forgiveness, not unless you plan on forgiving Tirek anytime soon.”
“But-”
“Besides,” he interrupted, “just because you have been willing to give me another chance doesn’t mean anypony else will. Opinions aren’t won over in a day.”
“You won mine in a day.”
“You are not an entire town. Have you ever considered the possibility that maybe you’ve been wrong about me this whole time? Maybe the townsponies are right in their thinking.”
“Discord!” Fluttershy half-shouted. “Please! I want to help. I’m trying to make you feel better about all this!”
“And a fine job you’re doing,” he muttered, turning away.
“Well, if you would just listen...”
“I won’t ignore the facts as they are, Fluttershy!” he snapped. “I’ve done horrible things in my past, both to you and to everypony you know. Just because you want me to listen doesn’t mean I can ignore my history, or the logic of my actions, even if you will. I’m a bird without wings, Fluttershy, remember? And you’re trying to push me out of a nest because you think I can still fly! I’m sorry, but maybe you need to be pecked.”
Silence. Finally, Fluttershy ran out of things to say. She stood there, looking up at his averted face, and tried hard to come up with another solution. As the seconds ticked by, her frustration and pity caused her to shudder. She nervously shook her feathers and stammered with half-words. Eventually, with Discord pointedly avoiding her gaze, she let out a small sniffle and took flight. A few seconds later, she was gone.
Fluttershy was only trying to help. She didn’t deserve to be driven away.
Snap.
He was clearly struggling with a problem larger than anything he had ever faced, and she had chosen to stay by his side and offer her wisdom. But like any true villain, he had let her exhaust her own reason before striking back while she was weakened.
Snap.
This wasn’t working. Clearly he needed to do something differently.
Scratch.
A thin, jagged line trailed behind Discord’s outstretched claw as he ran it across the tree’s bark. His cut barely went deep at all, but it still caused a noticeable change - something he had desperately been trying to do. Now there was proof that he had been there, and nobody could say differently.
At least, for the time being. The tree’s bark would eventually recover and remove all evidence of the scratch.
Well, there was a way around that, too. Discord extended the rest of his claws, reared back, and gave a quick swipe at a nearby limb. Several leaves shook and a few twigs snapped, but most importantly were the clean gashes that ran nearly two inches long. These, too, were not that deep, but it was much more than a simple errant line in the bark. This was damage.
Discord paused. Hmph, another irony had presented itself. The tree, though inanimate, had only stood as a support for him in the last hour. Now he was attacking it simply for what it was doing. Just like he had done to Fluttershy.
He growled.
Swipe.
Three more cuts, deeper this time. His claws began to ache.
The heat of anger that had been building in him throughout the day had begun to spark. Discord saw fault in everything around him, whether it was pony or otherwise. Fluttershy had merely been the first to meet his ire. Not long after she had fled, Discord had directed the heat toward other things - things that, like Fluttershy before them, didn’t deserve what they received. The ground was stamped flat in a spot that resembled his cloven hoof. A nearby stone had been jabbed into the dirt, like a monument to his actions. The tree was next, and he wondered why he had not started with it. After all, it was bigger than him.
Another set of three cuts joined the rest, and this time were accompanied by the sight of green, healthy leaves being forced from their buds. More damage. More proof.
But really, what else could he do? With no magic to speak of and change being in his nature, Discord needed to find an outlet for his calling. Since he couldn’t use his imagination, he had to use his body. Physical changes were still changes, and they were certain to give him some satisfaction.
Swipe. Nine cuts became twelve. The bark on the limb began to shred. Healthy wood was exposed.
Except the satisfaction didn’t come, or if it did it was of a different taste. Discord felt himself grinning, but it was not like his usual mischievous smirk. This was uncomfortable. Grim, with clenched teeth, and wound tight like a watch. He decided ‘mechanical’ was a proper way to describe it, and indeed the taste he experienced was metallic and bitter.
No, wait. It was blood, let loose from his claws and flung into his mouth. More of it was flecked across his snout and body. He stared at his eagle-hand in a stoic realization, like he didn’t really know how to respond. Didn’t ponies usually seek aid when they were wounded?
Fluttershy would help him. He could seek her out, despite his biting words to her from an hour ago, and show her the damaged skin and cracking claws. She would push him along toward her cottage, where she would pull out one of her many first-aid kits specialized toward helping animals. She would dab away the blood, apply alcohol and bandages, and insist he refrain from using his hand for a week or more. She would do all of that without hesitation, and he knew it.
But instead, Discord simply let his claws fall to his side, where they dripped his blood onto the dirt. It pooled into one spot, once again showing that he had been there. Proof of his existence.
The tree was definitely changed now. The limb he had victimized was riddled with a dozen cuts of varying degree. Branches had become spotty at having their leaves torn away. Smaller twigs had been snapped off, joining the fallen leaves on the ground. All of it was proof that he had been there.
Discord could do more.
He clenched his lion-hand into a fist and reared back once again.
Slam.
Shards of bark punctured his fur as the impact sent a strong, unpleasant vibration along his arm. Small dots of blood, this time from his other hand, marked the place on the tree limb. Rivulets ran along his fingers and seeped to his palm. The very sensation made him angrier.
It was a hot anger, a dry anger, one that left his throat burning and his eyes narrow. He glared at the spots of red on the branch. Several pieces of the shredded bark had fallen, revealing more of the wood underneath. He was angry at the wood.
With a grunt, he delivered another punishing blow to the unforgiving bough. The splinters that were stuck in his hand were pushed deeper. Nearly all of the ruined bark was knocked loose, fully showing off the clawed wood and the smeared blood. It was a bald patch in an otherwise healthy tree. He was angry at the branch.
Discord moved further along the branch and put both his hands against it, then pushed forward. The limb swayed, but didn’t give any quarter. He growled and pushed harder, leaning all of his weight into it. He wanted the tree to change. Not just something temporary like a small scratch, or even something that could be missed like a patch of stripped bark. He wanted real change, something permanent, that would last long after the blood had washed away and the leaves were carried by the breeze. He was angry at the tree, and he wanted it to change.
But it didn’t.
Discord could not change the appearance of the tree more than he had already done. He pushed and growled and bled, but the limb remained strong. The tree remained unchanged. And that only served to make him angrier.
A few minutes passed, then Discord gave up. He fell against the branch, throwing one arm around it while letting the other dangle. He stood there for a long time, doing nothing except breathe heavily and bleed, relying entirely on the limb for support. Just as the tree had done without complaint. The only reason he finally moved was because of his hands. The pain was finally making itself known.
Slowly, he inspected the damage he had done to himself. His paw was swollen and stained due to several splinters lodging inside. Some pieces were alarmingly large, and might leave scars. It hurt him to just move his fingers at all. His eagle-hand, however, was nearly mangled. Each claw was broken at the tip and cracked along the side, but worse was the skin above. The fingers had been partially shredded due to the edges of the bark. Any deeper, and Discord might have exposed nerves. Perhaps he had already done so - it was impossible to tell beneath the rivulets of red.
Discord gently pushed himself away from the offending branch. Surprisingly, he wasn’t angry at his hands. Despite the pain radiating from either one, they had both done what he sought. They had both changed. It wasn’t what he had in mind, but he found it welcoming. He decided that red was a good color on him. Although, maybe he went a little too far in his fury.
He glanced at the branch he had damaged. The scarred patch of wood was lined with blood as well. The edges of the bark were tipped with red. There was even red in several distinct spots along the limb, each shaped like one of his hands. Such evidence would not be easily ignored by those who saw it.
Maybe that would be enough.
He couldn’t say.
But it still didn’t change the facts. Discord realized this, and he felt the hot anger crawl up his spine once more. Worse still, he regained some of his sense, just enough to realize what he had done. His hands were torn and bloody messes. His right arm was sore from the punching. He had assaulted a tree, for goodness sake. What good could come from that?
And what did he have to show for it? A temper tantrum that left him needing stitches.
Gingerly, he lifted his lion-hand up and ran his fingers along the scarred wood. More blots of blood formed from the contact, smearing his own essence. This evidence would have to do for now, even though it would eventually grow back. His arm fell. Any new bark might cave from the damage, and ponies looking closely would see the difference...but over time, they would stop asking how or why. They would stop wondering. Stop worrying.
They would forget about it.
They would forget about him.
Discord spent a long time gazing at the change he had wrought. His anger subsided into numbness, and the heat and dryness left him unmoving. He simply stood there, gazing at the victimized limb, as the smears and flecks of blood dried to a crust. He would have stayed there for all of the approaching evening, and perhaps through the night.
Before her rested two open scrolls, each filled from top to bottom with their own messages. They were both meant as responses to a letter she had received from Twilight earlier that day, though the manner of those responses were wildly different from each other. She cast her gaze back and forth between the two, her decision as divided as the messages themselves.
On the left, her response was hopeful and understanding. She had written her reply to Discord's situation, and had included some instructions and advice on how to move forward. There were also many paragraphs that all involved helping him in various ways, including the idea to research his magic as deeply as her own. His magic, she reasoned, may have been the opposite of Harmony, but that didn't mean it was entirely evil. His own reformation had proven as such.
That letter was the first she had written. The ink had long since dried completely. It was meant to provide guidance and hope in the face of such a remarkable challenge.
She frowned, then looked to the letter on the right. The ink on this one still ran.
The second letter began the same as the first, but didn't share anything else. While the first had been hopeful, the second was not. Celestia had been honest with herself while writing it, and the result was the details of a dismal truth: Discord's magic was gone forever. But since this was Twilight who would read it, the letter would become worse from there, because Celestia would go on to suggest that Equestria was better off without such magic.
The simple act of writing the second letter had left a bitter taste in her mouth. She knew she shouldn't feel ashamed for the truth. Nonetheless...
Celestia's gaze moved from the letters to a random spot on her desk. The truth of the matter was loud in her mind, and she had written down that truth more out of desperation than a desire. Learning about Discord's loss of magic had proven to be a surprise, but as the hours crawled by, she couldn't help but see the opportunity this afforded her. Or perhaps opportunity was incorrect. Maybe it was a sense of victory? Relief? It was too early to be sure.
But nonetheless...she found herself more and more willing to let the magic remain lost. After all, Discord and his particular brand of magic had been the cause of so much heartache in ancient days. Celestia had never been satisfied with just him being turned to stone, not for what he had done all those centuries ago. Was it any wonder, really, that she had him put up in the palace garden? Put up as a display for fillies to gawk at and nobles to direct their sneers?
Turning him to stone was a mercy, and Celestia was nothing if not merciful. Still, she wished she could have done something more permanent.
Celestia closed her eyes and lowered her head. This latest news was the answer to a prayer she had said many hundreds of years ago, but it only troubled her, because she had finally made peace with the reality that Discord was above her. It was why she was so willing to have him make friends with Fluttershy in the first place: the perfect solution to accept his power for what it was while still making him humble. It was a compromise when she couldn't go to the extremes.
But now his magic was gone. Her wish had been granted.
Still, she hesitated between the two letters. The conflict within her raged on, with hope and honesty crashing against each other as loudly as an avalanche. It wouldn't do any good to show Twilight how much it pleased her to know Discord's plight, but neither could she disrespect her student with a hope she herself didn't believe. Yet she didn't want her student or her friends to suffer, nor did she want Discord to get away with his evils again. Such acts may have been done many centuries ago, but an ageless mind such as hers bore scars in the form of nightmares and regrets.
Seeing Discord betray her during Tirek's advance would always prove her fears. That, in turn, proved her own regrets earned from over a thousand years before. Worse still, the one thing she did not regret was making her wish in the first place.
When she opened her eyes again, she saw the two letters, patiently open to her choice. Which was worse: a hopeful lie, or a bitter truth? Losing Twilight's trust, or Twilight's faith? Securing a guaranteed peace for Equestria, or giving Discord the smallest of chances to betray her again in the future? Betray Twilight?
Never before now had Celestia known that she was still fighting Discord's magic. She wondered if he felt the same about her, if he was bemoaning lost chances to cause her problems in the years to follow. If she was right, then honesty would keep everyone safe. But if she was wrong, then Twilight would be encouraged to find a way to get the magic back. And if she succeeded?
Minutes passed by with Celestia coming no closer to a decision. She closed her eyes again, keeping them closed for a moment as she marveled at just how exhausted she was. She knew she had ruined her sleep schedule, but couldn't be bothered with it. A problem like this required much more than just her judgment, but she was too fearful to bring it before her sister or niece. Truthfully, she feared that they would support either idea.
Some time passed as she fumed. Eventually, she opened her eyes again and pushed past the glare of her candles. With a groan, she stepped away from her desk, instead moving to a nearby balcony. She gently pulled the door open and stepped through, all too eager to get some fresh air.
In the distance, she spotted the telling glow of Ponyville's own lamps. She had seen it many times over the years, and each time before it had brought her a sense of peace. Somewhere down in that gentle light was Discord, her old enemy. What was he up to? The hopeful part of her imagined that he was talking with Fluttershy about anything at all. The honest part of her pictured him furious and eager to break whatever happened to find its way into his grip.
In reality, Discord was doing neither. He sat alone on the roof of Fluttershy's cottage, staring at his hands and lost in his memories.
One story he hadn't yet told was about a crazed old mare he had met some twelve- or fourteen-hundred years ago. He never got her name, but remembered the cutie mark: a paintbrush set against a mountain. This mare had stumbled across Discord one day, and he had taken it as a chance to quell his boredom for a little while. But something about the mare made him pause, made him talk to her and get to know her a little.
The mare hadn't come across him by accident. Rather, she had spent the better part of the season searching for him. He remembered talking with her in that condescending way of his, pelting her with questions designed to cause doubt and fear. She had been shaken at first, but eventually played along with a charisma he couldn't recall seeing in other creatures. It was enough to make him slow down and ask more meaningful questions instead, where he learned she had sought him out because she believed him to be some sort of god.
He had long since thought that of himself, of course, but it was the first time he had heard it from another. He had been intrigued, and had even considered starting a religion centered around himself to capitalize on the idea. However, he later discovered the mare had been sick in her head, which soured the idea until it fell from his mind. He eventually scared her away, never to see her again.
In moments like this, he would think back to that encounter and the mare. He would picture how his life might have been, had he simply allowed the idea to become something more. Perhaps allow the sick old pony to become the prophet of his word. It would have been hilarious, seeing an ill but devout pony preach words of nonsense. What would it have been like if his reality had changed like that?
He shook his head slowly. Reality was a funny thing. Everyone always assumed it was something sturdy, like a great stone foundation on which a life can be built. His power let him see it as more of a block of ice, something that could be carved in any way imaginable. It would take on different shapes and mean different things, but in the end, it was still ice. And he was the only one who was able to sculpt it.
Now reality had changed into something different, something he hadn't yet found a word for. Yesterday, the change had left him angry, and it had taken him the whole day to find out who he blamed.
He gently loosened the bandages covering his hands. The cloth fell away and got caught in the breeze, revealing the damaged tissue of his fingers. The simple act of moving them was uncomfortable, but they were healing: Fluttershy's medicines had done wonders to save them. And unless he was mistaken, she had also used a special medicine from Zecora to speed things along. He couldn't be sure, and it made no difference, but he certainly didn't recognize it from the normal remedies Fluttershy usually went through on an injured critter.
It probably meant that she had it prepared just for him, to help fix what he had done to himself. And if that was true, then it meant that Zecora had helped as well. That little zebra hermit had come through at his friend's request, when he couldn't remember ever sharing words with her. She had simply helped because she was capable.
He liked that idea.
It would take him a while to fully heal. Doubtless, he would be in for a stern glare when Fluttershy woke up and saw that his hands were no longer bandaged. In a way, he knew he would prefer that: being normal was boring, so it was only right for him to mix things up now and again. Even without magic, without answers, and without a clear future, he could still make small changes that amused him. It was all a matter of finding out what he could do without pushing things too far. And that had been part of their friendship all along, hadn't it?
Maybe that meant nothing had changed after all.
Slowly, he closed his hand on itself until he was pinching. There was nothing between his fingers anymore...except that wasn't true. He was still there, along with his skin and bone and blood and everything else that made Fluttershy argue with him for so long. He realized that she had seen him for who he was: Discord, a friend who was struggling and in need of help. She hadn't once thought about getting his magic back, because his magic wasn't what made up their friendship. Whether or not he ever recovered his magic didn't matter, because she had looked past that. She had always looked past that.
