Chapter 1
Venture into the Enumerations of the Twist, and you will find what is "[ ]" in the trust of the mane six. Among the streams of consciousness, lies of the Discord and lies of the shadows. There be no place in yonder to prevent our villains' claims, and no remnant of emeralds which can conquest these new beings. And thus we must be careful and find those who dare deceive. We remember jubilant ghosts in the forest, but cold air haunts the pouring of the fire. The clamor of the citizens are reminiscent of the enjoyments of past time.
Kicking off the hunt, Applejack bonged the fruits of cacophony for her companions, GONG GONG GONG. Among the golden sun's tears falling on the path, we traverse to the exchange of ideas. Under the crooked old sticks dancing, the swirling changes the airflow. Ernest which is of us in our kind, such that quarrels of couples be gone from our eyes. The Crusaders be fraught to find some way of hinting of their flanks. To your front! I say, as they nearly mindlessly rescinding down to the dozens, from hundreds of goals to be brought out of their bright minds. This particular day with hint of Timber, Sunshine, and Gobbled waste, ponders to hit their utmost Hanker. Warmth in the land of Equestria shone through, yet Icy hearts froze in the sinning of our realms.
"Kedu otu ụwa si achọ ịmata ihe, na ọ na-akuziri anyị ebe anyị na-agụghị akwụkwọ?" The three belt a beholden thought, but they sought to shook the haunting ending: what the terminus did not bound to agree. For the inscriptions of the ideals became metaphysical: By and by with the three had written down once was gone the next. How can we know if the result of their attempts is merely "ʼn man van twaalf ambagte en dertien ongelukke"? That was the question. And thus, something yet be fraught.
Plonk! The jabber of the jibber honeyed down, watered through the yanking of the clanngarden class. What say you, be the query of the zoo? The lumbered trees tightening with twists, when the Youthful and the chair bent as if mounted. Now, thoughtfully they joined through a shared tones. Earnestly be the Soft nature of fillies, and earthiest least bet the best of ponykind. Beyond the hearkening of the hearth's warmth, the eve where this be brought to our context, joule, joy, et voila. Unfortunately, there is no "sacred bleu" for whence you may be running, as we are botched beyond the six of the congruence.
Longing to fight, longing to be brought as better, they seemed even more vigorous than a dashing rogue. "... Burnt toast, from heating. I shouldn't be pouring the coffee when freezing will be that of our venture." the rose-colored mane muttered to herself. But then-- "Opportunity!" -- Cheerilee thought, and trotted to and fro, the noticed thought against the shape and leaping, bungling and Limping just as her mane did. But of course, she herself was no such parrucchiera. She had worked from Sabbath til next as their duktur jamaeaa. Indeed, the linking of the jest be worst yet. Thonk, thonk, thonk, the travel's bearings like Proust himself, reaching the border of the Klāsarumēra. She knew of none, of all. That was just the lip of the fighting kipper.
"So do any of you dare to let your inquisitive mind reach beyond this uncertainty, which none are answering?" Cherilee inquired, for it was within this jabber talk of the qualms with our ducky audience, that we released the known brouillard, as if there were more mystifying conquests. What consumed them, unless that requiem of neighbors went beyond a knowledge such as the Wèizhī thus? There was no question about it. Hedging from the leftward space, the Monosashi clacked against the blackboard, venturing its way to find the monster to slay.
And thus the quandary, the conundrum, stayed in the darkness, just as the crowned princess of evil lurked in the crowd, a beauty opposing her true nature and a smile hiding her true knowledge.
_____________________________________________
Translation (do not read if you want to keep the mystery):
Venture into my story, and you will find the one who betrayed the mane six. Among my passages there are lies of Discord and lies of shadows. You cannot find a place far enough that the villains cannot reach, and the elements of harmony have been lost. And thus we must be careful and find those who dare deceive. We remember the "Giggle at the Ghosties", but it has been long since then. The clamor of the citizens are reminiscent of the enjoyments of past time.
Kicking off the hunt, Applejack used a bong to call her friends, GONG GONG GONG. Along the golden leaves on the path, we see ponies talking to each other. The bare trees sway under the wind. The ponies are still earnest with each other, and quarrels of couples are gone from our eyes. The Cutie Mark Crusaders are looking to find their talents. "Focus!" I would tell them, as they reduce hundreds of goals down to dozens from their bright minds. This particular day with hint of Timber, Sunshine, and Gobbled waste, makes them satisfied. Warmth in the land of Equestria shone through, yet Icy hearts froze in the sinning of our realms.
"What does the world know, that it teaches us when we are not educated?" The three thought, but they sought to shook what the doubt within them, the potential ending of being a blank flank. How can we know if the result of their attempts is merely "a jack of all trades, master of none"? That was the question. And thus, something was to be undesirable.
Plonk! The chitter chatter of the class calmed down as they pulled each other. When, what and where would the "zoo" ask? The lumbered trees tightening with twists, where the fillies sat and the chair bent as if mounted. Now, thoughtfully they joined through their shared tones. Earnestly be the Soft nature of fillies, and earthiest feeling was brought resembling pony kind. Beyond the hearkening of the hearth's warmth, the eve where this be brought to our context, the energy, the joy, et voila! Sadly, there is no surprise for when you may be running, when the elements of harmony are not working.
Longing to be fight, longing to be seen as better, they seemed younger than dashing rogues. "... The toast's too hot. I should also not pour coffee in this cold weather..." the rose colored mane muttered to herself. But then-- "Opportunity!" -- Cherilee thought, and to and fro, thoughts jumped to her head just like her messy mane. But of course, she herself was no such hairdresser. She had worked from Sabbath til next as their professor. Indeed, the funniness of this irony was just being realized. Thonk, thonk, thonk, her route reminded of the scientist Proust, as she reached the door of the classroom. She knew of nothing, and this was just the beginning of the red herring.
"So does any pony want to answer this question?" Cherilee inquired, and it was clear that the answer was clear as fog and they begun talking of other matters, as if there were more mystifying conquests. What consumed them, unless that their devotion was able to find something beyond the unknown? There was no question about it. Hedging from the leftward space, the ruler clacked against the blackboard, venturing its way to find the monster to slay.
And thus the problem stayed in the darkness, just as the crowned princess of evil lurked in the crowd. Her beauty opposed her true nature and a smile hiding her true knowledge.