A silhouette lay soundly in the mouth of a shadowed structure, created naturally by nature instead of being manufactured by ponies themselves. The figure didn't speak, nor did it even bother to move, as it didn't need to and had other ways of fulfilling her thoughts instead of leaving them in the back of her own mind. The female had an anatomy that of a pony's, and with that, until further proof, she would be described as an equine like possibly every other being in Equestria, unless they were griffons or some other obvious animal that had clear distinctions between the races.
A soft pitter-patter sounded from the exterior of the area that she had been staying at, and a ear-pounding, booming crash would also follow every once in a while, a few seconds late of a jagged electrical flash that sent light travelling in every direction surrounding it. It was disturbing and distracting, but having been isolated from the world would have taught you lots of things, even if they weren't completely necessary. Again, for the sixteenth time that night, a bright flash blinded the room, disappearing just as soon as it had come, leaving a frustrated mare with vision that had been ruined due to the sudden brightness changing.
Darkness is the only thing that made this her home, and it only dragged her deeper into the depths of hatred every day she stayed there. It consumed whatever bits of her shattered heart that remained, and any ounce of the little filly she used to be had disappeared into the void. Alone, she sat on a pile of smooth stones, carefully assembled with her levitation spell, another weak piece of magical talent that foals could do with their hooves tied behind their backs. A single squeak of a bat's shrill note would occasionally echo throughout the vast tube-like structure, but any sign of line was devoid, and it always has been ever since the mare's arrival to her adopted home.
A grass-green coloured aura materialised in the thin, stale air that circulated normally throughout the rocky, dusty stone walls that were deemed years ago to be called a 'cave'. The wavering aura lowered onto a piece of parchment that was seemingly thinner than the pieces of parchment she used to use when she was younger. The corners of the paper lifted sluggishly, unsure if it wanted to obey her demands or not, but any inanimates' attempt to refuse would be futile, and would be forced to do anything at the boss's will. It turned upwards, completely covered in the green hue, and swiftly flicked to the opposite side of which it was at before. The mare's eyes placed upon another set of paragraphs regarding illegal magical spells and skills that were used for violence long before she had been born. A few dust particles blew into her face, but she was used to it by now.
A few diagrams and illustrations were hastily thrown around on the sheets of paper assembled into a book before her, but she wasn't interested in what their hooves could do with one of their slick paint brushes. They were pointless, and this book wasn't created solely for the purpose of foals to enjoy life being about rainbows and lollipops. Eyes squinting, she fell upon word after word, riddle after riddle, code hidden behind a mask. She couldn't give up, not after all of the research she went through to get rid of her backstabbing friends and so-called family. They didn't deserve to live happy lives, yet they did, all watching a little filly being tormented, continuously writhing in pain. Being blamed after every single mistake which she did not commit, being involved in problems that she was not involved in, yet they just stared and laughed. They laughed at her.
They were all well into their twenties now, and having to die at such a young age would be disappointing, right? Yes, very disappointing that they didn't get to die sooner. It would be easy; activate stealth mode and simply murder them in their sleep. As a young foal, of course nopony would have even thought about the consequences, but as a teenager, you would have to think the plan through. They would be able to trace the magic residue to the user and track them down, much to her disliking, and could easily imprison her for a criminal offense. Besides, even if that didn't happen, there could always be the possibility of being caught or somepony cheating time, trying to use a time travel spell to see who the culprit was. So many possibilities, yet so limited options.
She groaned in agitation, slamming her hoof against the crumpled piece of paper before her. A few tingles of pain shot up through her bones, but that was nothing. That small amount of pain was just weakness that little foals didn't even bother to hide, but to her, it was nothing. All of the pain she had been put through as a child was just horrible, and now she wanted everypony else to pay the price. Even if it cost her her own life and sanity, leaving things the way they were now was not an option. Lifting the book with a leather cover on the back, she carelessly threw it through the air along with the other couple hundreds of books with small holes torn in them, most likely from scavengers like rats and mice. Putting all of her weight onto her hind-legs, her fore-hooves pointed downwards and lifted the rest of her body off of the ground.
A few limp strings of hair dangled into her face, though that was the least of her worries for now. She could be dead, for all she knew. How was she to know if this was all a dream or not. Reality and virtual dreams would collide, putting up a strong fight until they morph together; insanity. Lifting a hoof to her face, she examined how much she had changed ever since she had left her old home, the one that was now filled with insanity lurking around every corner. Nowadays, insanity was found everywhere in Ponyville. Applegem started it, and she would be the one to die the hardest. Everypony would get a single spell to kill them instantly, but Applegem would suffer, just like she did. Her once pristine hoof was now replaced with a greyed, colourless layer of fur that had lost all meaning ever since her only home had burnt down, along with her family.
Coming into a trot, she reached the other side of her room and lifted yet another book off the ground and hovered it in front of her face, hastily scanning through it and only seeing a blur of white and slurred writing. The spell was which of that she had learnt through finding one of Twilight's books on the porch, scorching and having smoke lightly emit from it. Possibly, Spike must of sneezed on a book again and had the spell book thrown out due to unrepairable damage and it's unsatisfactory state. Luckily for her, it was only the mere outside that had been burnt, but the contents were as good as new. The edges and corners of the pages were slightly uneven and torn, yellowing from age, but such a valuable spell couldn't go to waste. Without it, she would have taken hours just to read one chapter, but why do that when you could read fifty in just a few minutes?
Flicking the book into the air along with another few books that were in her way, she heard a loud 'thud' noise echo throughout the cave surrounding her. There were just so many books that she had stolen, but eventually there would be the time when it would come to none. The path seeming clear, she went into a trot, following the few rays of light that was swarming with dust particles, until her hoof collided with something hard. Surprised from the sudden contact, she let out an 'oomph' as she felt her legs losing balance in just a few milliseconds, and before she knew it, she tumbled forwards. Her head banged against the stone as she tripped, legs flailing outwards for pointless protection.
In anger, she immediately told her inner conscious to burn whatever object that she had fallen upon. Her horn glowed a sickly green, worse and stronger than before, and her desired thought was brought to reality. Her magic slightly illuminated the dark, but still left it remain in tension, unable to be put out of it's own misery. She growled as if she were some wild animal, pupils shrinking to the size of pinpricks as if she had lost her mind. Another book that had been hidden appeared in front of her, and being released from the mare's grip, she gasped in shock of having to read the title. She never wanted to have it in her sight again, let alone have it in her home. How it got there, that question remained unanswered.
When her thoughts lost connection with the magical activity, the remaining aura evaporated into thin air and disappeared, leaving the book teasing her in front of her own eyes. Something white had been taped onto the front of the cover, just a few centimetres away from the heading, threatening her to gauge her eyes out. A white, crumpled piece of paper laid, attached unwillingly to the purple book. Words were there that weren't supposed to be, a traumatising image daring her to go on in life, but she couldn't look away, she was frozen. She was supposed to be loved, supposed to smile and have a talent, now, looking at herself...
...she was nopony.
She had no cutie-mark. No family. No proper home. No food. No friends. No water. Nothing. -And yet here she was, struggling with her persistence, letting her hatred get the best of her. She wasn't going to die, and if she was, it would be when the world ended. The sun would cripple, and the moon would be destroyed. A strong pony on the outside, but a terrified filly on the inside, scared. Not knowing what the world was like, unable to have a good education, and being temporarily disabled wasn't a normal thing for unicorns. Her horn was damaged, and felt like it had been shot by daggers every time she used it, but no matter what, she would. It felt nice, taking all of the pressure out of her mind. Suicide sounded like such a peaceful thing, but... no. She had a mission, and she wouldn't leave until her purpose was fulfilled.
Her eyes narrowed, and with a simple defence skill that she had learned and accidently created through combat, the book had been turned into nothing more than remains of what it once was. A white-hot light licked along the supposed book, and soon revealed to be the colours red and orange flames as her eyes adjusted to the unexpected light power. It sluggishly crumbled, fragment by fragment, and made a coal-black pile of ash and soot on the ground, leaving the smell of smoke in the air. The fire disappeared like any other thing that had been created by magical force, and somehow was disposed of through some sort of Equestrian code run by Celestia.
Though the cursed book had been burnt, one thing had been overlooked. The paper had detached from the tape as soon as it had melted from the heat, and she started to fear it lurking somewhere among the books and other ornaments that lay around, scattered carelessly without any intention of being cleaned up afterwards. She sat on her haunches, banging her hooves onto her head to convince herself that there was nothing wrong. A fragile being. A torn soul. A book full of broken memories only provoked the despair, but it was irreversible. Nothing can alter the past, not even with magic. Only the greatest of unicorns could perform such a skill, but none existed.
Twilight Sparkle, a name to come about. She was a great mare whilst it lasted, but she too was taken by the arms of the elements. Her mind mixed between reality and imagination, she found herself damaged like any other being who refused to get rid of her element, slowly letting go of herself. She struggled, yet she fought through it with sheer willpower. She didn't want to let her princess down, but it was too late. Her mind took control, and she was lost in the fog of uncertainty. Much like any others, she only lived with sanity for at least four years before the unexplainable happened.
Her friends... her only friends... they were murdered at the hooves of a mare. A cyan mare promising unspeakable treasures, showing great loyalty and a heart filled with hope. A filly was captured, killed for not being able to do what everypony hoped for her to. She couldn't do without her dream, so she followed her idol, but it was all just a trap. Something to lure naïve fillies and colts do while they all dance around without a care. Another filly, one of her greatest and most trusted friends... she couldn't escape. She was also captured, and tortured until she breathed her final breath.
She could remember the days of that she was a filly, happy with her life and asking for nothing more than her cutie mark. Despite her good intentions of life in her wandering mind, eyes glistening with excitement, she never found that happiness that she wished for. Her friends died before they were even teenagers, cutie-markless, just like her. Her destiny was corrupted, pushed aside with whatever time she had left. Now, it was all just a distant dream that never occurred, slowly fading to the point that it would be completely forgotten, just like... like...
Unknown to the teenage mare, a slow trail of a clear liquid trickled down from her eyes until they reached the bottom of her chin. Slowly collecting little droplets, it formed one much bigger, the weight dragging it down to the hard ground. The tear splashed onto the ground, a small puddle growing as more tears threatened to overspill and flood her home. She had only now realised that she was crying, and lowered her head to the ground, covering her face with her forehooves, uncontrollable sobs emitting from behind.
A now-old looking object lay in front of her, unnoticed, slowly having small portions of smoke floating from the corners of the yellowed picture. Despite the burned edges, the picture was still clearly visible, along with a title that had every bit of information that there had to be known to be understood. A perfectly normal background, with a tranquil town and grass staying still. Three fillies were posing in front of a camera, smiling to make themselves have an appropriate posture for their last photograph that they would ever be involved in. Two were extremely familiar, even thinking of them being painful, but one was herself.
A butterscotch coloured pony with a crimson mane stood out, copying her sister, Applejack's pose. One hoof was wrapped around her left leg, wearing a faint grin and winking at the camera as if she could break the fourth wall. A pink bow was attached to her unique mane, way too big for her altogether, and her orange-tangerine-ish eyes stood out, considering that it was a pretty rare eye colour for ponies nowadays. Now, Applebloom was gone, just another body to be tossed away that would soon be forgotten like every other living thing that had been found in the hands of such a monster.
Another pony to the right of her was also one that would always be remembered. She had a light purple mane, and tangerine fur, and also lavender eyes, but most of all, she had wings; she was a Pegasus. Scootaloo was an amazing pony, and was extremely talented at acrobatics, but she never had the time to realize her true potential. Alas, it was too late, and she had been captured just like Applebloom had. Scootaloo escaped the cursed farm just in time, but Applebloom was found scurrying towards it, being tortured to tell them the truth. Eventually, she gave in, but her life still came to a halt, despite the fact that they lied about letting her go.
But another pony sat on the left of Applebloom, one that survived all of the trickery that had been going on throughout everypony's lives. A filly with a horn; a unicorn. She had swirly hair with a mix of the two colours pink and purple, with emerald green eyes that's shone with excitement for their upcoming day. She could remember how they used to go crusading almost every day, but now, those days were over. That filly was no more, and everypony deemed her as deceased. Though, nopony really knew that she lived, and wasn't taken by the crazed Apple family.
"I... I miss Granny Smith..."
If the picture wasn't enough to break her already-dying heart, then the writing surely would have. Her only friends were dead, and it was all her fault for not being there for them. At the bottom of the photo, a small amount of writing had been written in a midnight-black coloured ink from a feather. Writing that her sister had written, a sister that never returned and never had shown her how much she really meant to her. A sister...
...a sister that never wrote back. A sister that never said anything as much as 'I love you' or 'I miss you.' A sister that burned in the gates of Tartarus... but a sister that truly understood her, for once. She did love her, but never proved it. Maybe she was wrong... or maybe not as she thought. Rarity killed herself, she was a cursed witch. If she had just listened to her sister's pleads, she would still be living a happy life, but instead she had to burn. A fire burned down the whole Boutique, and everypony there died. All except for one.
The CMC's and I . We're going to get our cutie-marks! Yay!
She remembered writing that sentence, along with her name down at the bottom as a signature, showing that it would forever belong to her. Now, all she wanted was for it to be gone, for the pain to disappear, for the memories to be taken away. The times that they spent together... it gnawed at her. It pained her to the point that she would just rather be killed then live on in the hell of a world that used to be so innocent. It wasn't going to happen, now. She would just cripple until everything had been destroyed, everything valuable had been taken away.
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"Hey, Scoot! Ya wanna come over to the clubhouse?"
"Sure, Applebloom!"
"I can't go."
"Aw! Why not?"
"We've gotta leave, tomorrow."
"Sweetie, we have to leave today."
"Apple Belle... Apple Belle."
"I will get rid of that cursed horn!"
"You're worthless!"
"She did it!"
"Let her go!"
"Heh. Give me one good reason that I shouldn't kill her right now. She's a Pegasus, Fluttershy is."
"Because she's kind!"
"She forced us into labour!"
_______________________________________________________
Twisted memories came together in her mind, a mix of her joyful foal hood growing to abusive teenage home. They forced her upon many things, Big Macintosh only making things worse from sending her to magic school, but she was grateful for what he did, even after her pointless 'punishment'. Granny Smith saved her life, more than once, but her chair forever would sit still, vacant without any occupation whatsoever. She knew she would die soon, the mare. She would be hunted down, just like any other unicorn brave enough to fight back against the earths, but she was stronger. She could surpass them all.
"Granny Smith... you are all I know."
Along with the book, the picture ignited with flames, disappearing into a pile of worthless ash, smoke bellowing from it. Though, even though it did seem that it was permanently banished from existence, one small strip of paper from the bottom remained, slowly flowing in the air behind the odd mare, stealthy as to not alert her into burning it as well. It swayed from side to side, slowly descending to the ground like a lost feather from a bird that had been flying away from it's home for migration.
Sweetie Belle
