Picking Oneself Up
The spring sky holds all and any colours. The old, experienced, yet youthful mind observing it sees so much more than just dancing lights and vaporous wisps. The uncountable colours of the sky and the serene symphony of nature around her tells its own story. A parallel story to her own but one of very different beginnings. Although with seemingly a similar end. An end that is nowhere in sight, not even in the luminous cosmos above.
She has perched high upon a hill to observe her would-be domain. What she would have made into her seat of power. A bit of irony, a bit of spite. Nothing to pine after now that it has slipped her grasp. She has other problems.
The latest fall of curtains on her long, illustrious career are like a whole arsenal of knives thrust all the way through her entire being. Nothing has the same feel to it anymore. She could swear that even her soul aches. The thought of her latest defeat brings a sharp taste of iron to her locked lips. She has to inhale through her nose not to risk polluting her next breath.
Thoughts of the future is what she seeks. The sky promised answers. She asked it before and it always came through. That is why she climbed the hill just as night was coming to an end. In this world, the sun is not an enemy.
Enemies all around, no allies at all. She never needed any. She has her sisters, her eternal supporters. By all means, keeping them in line is getting increasingly difficult. None the less, they understand and accept the issues they are all going through.
She contemplates the conflict inside. All of their current problems is something that her sisters should never have to cram into their heads. There should be space left for improvement. She willingly lets a violent shake surge through her body as she does what she can to expunge the thought from her system. There should be no more loss. There is only victory, dominance and supremacy.
She breathes in deep through her nose and looks to the sky once again. There is a tranquil feeling in the promise she makes to herself. She does not lean on someone else. She does not have to hold anyone accountable but herself. She will do as she always did and pick herself up. It is as simple as that. The rest is uncertain. Another problem to be solved, another wall to break down.
A thousand years. A thousand challenges. It never stops, it never changes. Until now.
All the trouble caused by and to her is the one consistent thing that has kept her sharp. Banishment, hardship, humiliation, the worst of the worst and the lowest of the low. Nothing has and nothing will ever break her. Not even this terrible curse of losing her magic.
The sky holds the simple, romantic detail to any rebirth. A dim shade of blue and green as thin clouds disperse. Ancient battles with goddesses and brutal exile to strange worlds flash by. She sighs and allows herself a sharp smirk. Her eyes burn with the flame of no true defeat.
Evil is a relative term, evil is something the oppressed shout time and time again. Her nature is just as the shifting sky. Something branded onto her by the powers that be, something that will be set in the ways of the multiverse forever. An ethereal calling, something higher. A voice in the darkness, a purpose far more poised than any feeble idea.
A world, a school, a battle. Being the monster in one world, being the teenage girl in another. Mix, match, fail, suffer. Existence makes for an interesting bouquet of pain and despair.
She takes a deep breath and lets her gaze drift from the nearest thin cloud to the next. While the rest of the world revels in their ignorance, she holds the knowledge. She is an elder being. She has been through multiple regimes of the worlds. Risings, falls, glory, defeat. The journey for some manner of satisfying ending through punishment and reward alike.
The early morning light reminds her of calm sunrises in Equestria. The sun may be of the enemy but it is the ruler of half the sky after all. When and where she herself ruled, things were rather similar to here. No busy pegasi to manage the clouds. Those times she was ever so close to a goddess herself. A scent of the final victory.
Different forms, different places, different ideas of reality.
The thin slivers of cloud that vanish with the rising of the sun simply gives her another dose of the place she is currently in. A would-be beautiful world. From Equestria and its Canterlot to a short, bitter time at Canterlot high.
The drudge of having to get adjusted to this awful place clearly added to the pain. Notwithstanding the fact that her new form is satisfying enough, even with the strange appendages. She had been quick with orienting her sisters. They may be idiots but they are her personal idiots. Very handy to have at her disposal. Useful for plans of domination and revenge. Even after the brutal defeat at the hands and voices of the Rainbooms.
Battling any band was a given victory but the combined Equestrian magic proved too much. How that could be was something she could not wrap her mind around. She searches the sky as if it would spell out the answer.
As the light of the new day blossoms upon the canvas of the immeasurable heavens, she finally closes her eyes. Calmth tip-toes around her mind, halting any roiling that may bloom due to her suppressed rage. The promise remains, from her, to her. This is all just a gloomy afternoon in her eternal pursuit of belonging.
Belonging suitably being the dominant life-form in a very, very lush world, filled with grovelling subjects. She will be adored. The first step on the new path is unclear but that has never stopped her before.
Adagio gets up while opening her eyes, fury momentarily subdued. She casts one last glance up to the sky as she starts off down the hill. The spring sky is not even the limit. She will have it all. Sooner or later. She is, after all, eternal.