Long, long ago... I came to this world.
Then, it was barren, devoid of life and will. My canvas, to paint upon whatever I saw fit.
So I brought water, crashing down in frozen lumps the size of nations, and steaming forth from vents into the molten underground.
Once the seas had spread and calmed, plants followed, their component parts fused together by my will from innocent substances.
Then, creatures of all kinds to eat these plants, and each other. But though there was an abundance of life, there was still no will.
Here I would take a different path from my siblings. Where they would create beings of all parts of the spectrum, prone to corruption and sympathy alike, I sought to make utter perfection. A will that would be an equal to my own, yet different enough to bring a new perspective my family had long been missing.
My eyes fell upon a horse, as unique a creature as any on this world - and so it was chosen.
It should be capable of moving as gracefully as myself, so it would have great wings – and so it flew.
It should impart its will upon the world as I did, so it would receive a powerful horn – and so it used magic.
It should not be jealous or mistrustful, so it would be sustained by its will alone – and so, it never wanted for anything.
It should, above all, be capable of speaking with me – and so, it thought.
Now she had all the abilities it would need to be my equal. If she used her mind and her magic, she would fashion tools, and with those, better tools, until she could finally understand the world as I do.
But she didn't.
In her perfection, she only observed the world around her, content to live in complete safety with the gifts I had given her. She had no desires, and so no reason to strain herself.
And so I learned that perfection of form and soul held not companionship, but mere existence.
Thinking back to when I first set out on this journey, I remembered my siblings, and thought of how their weak creatures struggled and overcame the challenges of their worlds in their greed for all things of knowledge and material value. Yet they were so weak, and when each one died, so much was lost.
My eyes fell upon a lizard. It, too, was chosen.
It should be capable of grace, and so it, too, would have wings.
It should live forever, and so it, too, received power.
It should not, however, be content. And so it felt greed.
Now he would strive. With his power, he would stay alive, yet his desire for more would drive him to inevitable perfection.
But he didn't.
His own will drove him his own way. He did not gather knowledge until he overcame his flaws, only material things. With power enough to take whatever he desired, and an unfailing body to enjoy it forever, he had no need for improving himself.
And so I learned that a perfect body would never strive, and never bring me companionship.
Once more I thought of my siblings flawed creations. In their fear of death, they would pass their knowledge between one another, hoping that eventually they would have enough and no longer need to be afraid. Indeed, a flawed body would naturally wish to be immortal and perfect, and so strive ever towards that goal.
My eyes fell upon a dog.
It would not be graceful.
It would not be powerful.
It would not be content.
It would, however, be capable of learning, and speaking, to pass it on. And so, it thought.
Now he would struggle to survive. With his weaknesses made up for by his intelligence, he would strive desperately, and eventually reach perfection.
But he didn't.
His weakness was too great, and he and his offspring struggled only for material things. Too intent on their greed, they ignored their futures, and their inevitable deaths. Even had they overcome their imperfect forms, they would not have cared to overcome their imperfect souls.
And so I learned that striving in itself held not the answer.
One last time I thought back on the many imperfect progeny of my siblings that struggled ever onwards in their lives. They were balanced, in a way. Not content, but not eternally greedy. Not perfect, but strong.
My eyes fell upon a lion, and an eagle.
They were both strong, not so much that they would not fear death – but enough to live long and learn much.
They were both proud, not so much that they would ever stop seeking to improve – but enough to believe themselves capable of perfection.
Now, with their combined strengths and weaknesses – the wings of one, the strength of the other, and the pride of both – the two together would seek to be as great as possible in every way, and finally attain perfection.
But the two became one, and didn't.
The griffin looked upon the world around her, and sneered. She was already the best, and the world hers for the taking with the slightest effort. There was nothing about herself that needed improving upon, and so she lazed about.
And so I learned that I still knew nothing – and grew frustrated.
There were many thinking creatures in the world now, and though they struggled and fought, it was all for nothing. It was little more than stealing, of wealth, of land, of lives, and none thought to understand the world or themselves better.
In my rage, I set the Windigos upon them. If they so much as thought to fight, they would freeze – yet, even as they learned to stay well away from each other, they cared not for finding what was the cause of this new limitation, or overcoming it.
At last, I despaired and thought not of my siblings creation, but my own first. Even now, she remained alone, perfect, and wholly passive. Yet...
Perhaps deliberately creating or combining flawed creatures was an obvious folly. Instead, I could take parts of a perfect whole, and separate them into perfect parts. Yes... They would unconsciously strive to be one again, and being forever unable to do so, would seek to find ever closer equivalents.
They would not be graceful, alone.
They would not be powerful, alone.
They would not be content, alone.
They would not even be clever, alone.
But they would not be alone.
With my will imposed upon the world, my first creation was no more. If she had known she would not exist in the future, she still would not have felt fear or resentment – she had not even that desire, to exist. If she had known three smaller, inferior versions of her would have been made from her essence, she would not have smiled at the idea of having children, nor rejoiced that she had not died in vain.
But the three little ones did fear dying, and did rejoice at having children.
And so I learned that in reducing a perfect being to imperfection, I had managed to create something better than perfection.
They improved themselves, slowly but surely. They later even came to understand the Windigos' cold, and their will to learn and unify made them the utmost of my achievements.
Yet, as they were, I could see so many fallen outliers – individuals who would have grown to have singular abilities, and advance their entire species a great deal, but had not the incitement to realize their potential.
I realized that the necessary challenges for them to truly grow did not exist here – the world's other beings were too simple or weak, and all kept to themselves. But I, a lord over the forces of creation and destruction, would be too much for even my ultimate creation to handle. They would only end up worshiping me, having created them and the world.
Then... I looked out upon the world I had made. Would they really thank me for creating a place so full of disunity? They valued togetherness to such a great degree that finding out I was the cause of such dissension would likely strike them with horror. Although, were they faced with anything threatening to split them similarly, they would surely strive harder still to be one again...
So be it. I appeared to them as a threat to that which they value most – and the very thing I value most in them. Their companionship. Indeed, it wasn't difficult to feign jealousy of it, as I spread disharmony and threatened their orderly existences.
And then... they touched upon their ancestor's perfection. Their power became, for just a moment, enough to challenge even me. I had equals again, for just a few seconds. What could I do, if not laugh in relief?
Now, I wait. My power is sealed, by itself in a roundabout way, and though I couldn't be happier to be proved right, my little ponies still have some way to go before they are truly my equals. We shall see if they may yet produce a companion or a challenge to me and my siblings.
Author's Note
tldr fluttershy is perfection personified.
...ponified.
Basically, Discord strongly resembles an eastern dragon: long, slender, chimeric, and stupendously powerful. I heard them described as lords and ladies of the laws of nature, and the story practically wrote itself after that.