Chapters This entry, interestingly, appears second in the book. It is also written in this curios cypher, and took me several hours to translate.
March 15, 1003 A.E.
I have decided to begin keeping a journal, here, to make sure that what I find is not lost to the fluxing and waning of my mind. While I was once able to keep a vast amount of information in this mind of mine, age is catching up to me, and with age, forgetfulness. This study could change everything, what we know about Magic is all wrong. Despite being an Earth Pony, my magic is nigh-unparalleled, and I use it to confound and beguile the unicorns who believe us to be inferior.
After studying magic for years, I am ready to begin chronicling my findings. I hope to publish this journal, once it is completed, as a study of magic's true form. I will, of course, remove these anticdotal writings beforehand, for I seek not to bore my readers, but to educate them.
When I first began my study into the realm of magic, many years ago, I found that it is not as clear-cut as "unicorn lights horn, object levitates". No, magic is much more complex, with the ability to cast spells being a long and difficult process. I have deep respect for those souls who have spent years studying it's application and use.
However, in our haste to study how to use it, the topic of where it comes from has never been covered. The only scholar I could find who ever spent any amount of time was the famed "Star Swirl the Bearded", who mysteriously disappeared before his greatest accomplishments could be realized. Unfortunately, I do not have access to his records, as they are kept under lock and key in the Royal Archives. I suppose if I were to ask for them I would be laughed at. What use would an Earth Pony have for the writings of a Unicorn Magician?
Actually, a lot.
My first fling with magic happened when I was very young. I distinctly remember the day. I was only a blank-flank colt then, and, though my tooth was sweet enough, my height was lacking, that cookie jar being just our of reach. My mother had wisely put the jar out of my reach even if I stood on my tippy-hooves on top of a chair. I remember feeling so dejected, like my world was over.
Oh, how foolish the young are!
It was then that I imagined it. I imagined being a Unicorn, which would solve my problem of the out-of-reach jar of sweets. I imagined magic covering the object, it falling into my arms, the ecstasy of biting down into that chocolate-brownie-batter cookie my mother made, and...
Then it happened. The miracle.
I heard a scraping noise. The ceramic of the jar scraping across the wooden shelf. It was only an instant, but felt like an aeon. The jar visibly moved off the shelf, but, unlike in my fantasy, my level of surprise surpassed my dexterity, and I dropped the jar, it and its precious contents shattering across the kitchen floor.
To this day, my parents believe I jostled the shelf, but I know the truth.
I used magic. I, an Earth Pony, magically moved that jar. There is no other explanation. It was from that tender age I decided to begin studying magic and its origin, knowing that I could use it, and therefore something we all hold to be truth is, indeed, false.
I have come to the conclusion that magic, though it takes skill to wield, is not from within, but from without. Unicorns have a horn which appears to have evolved to harness it, making their application of it that much stronger. But, that does not make it exclusive.
There is ambient magic in the air. It surrounds us, runs through us, and pervades us. But it is not from us.
I have requested an audience with the Princess. I feel confident she will admit me into the royal archives after reading a sampling of my research and study. I also feel certain she will confirm to me that there is a central location, somewhere the magic comes from. If we can trace the magic to it's source...
I must put down my writing now. I am being summoned.
That is the end of the entry. After that, there is something written in the margin. I have translated it below.
This night of death and doom and tears,
is naught more than a dream.
And when the Dreamer 'wakes, my dear,
That is when we all should scream.
This entry appears to be a continuation of the previous one.
I... I am at a loss for words.
I was summoned for my audience with the Princess, but...
I don't understand.
Let me start at the beginning. I walked into the throne room, and to my surprise not one but two princess were there, the Goddess Celestia and her sister Luna, despite the fact that Luna usually sleeps during the day. that fact alone was enough to make me more alert and focused. Obviously, something I had said or done was enough to cause the Goddess of the Night to be awakened. I, frankly, was excited.
The Princess entreated me to show her my "wand", as Ihave come to call the apperatus. After many years of study of both the Unicorn horn, as well as the concept of causing magic to flow, I had created for myself a mechanical device used to the same effect. Without it, I, lacking the necissary appendages to harness Magic's full power, could not do much more than cause a small object to move a few inches, and even that took great concentration.
I gave my speech on why I belive magic is ambient, on why we all believe wrong about it and it's application, and how my studies would be greatly aided by access to the royal Archives. "In particular, the works of the famed Star Swirl the Bearded and his assistaint Clover the Clever would aid me greatly in finding the truth about the origin and properties of magic." I'm sure my smile must have looked a mile wide. "Furthermore, his observations on the practical applications of more arcane spells would aid me greatly in putting the finishing touches on my wand, which now can only harness enough magic to preform rudimentary functions."
The Princesses looked at each other, in a kind of knowing way. Their faces, though still bright, had any trace of a smile gone. I wondered why the somber mood had suddenly overtaken our goddesses. Did I say something wrong? Did the princess know something I didn't? Unease began to eat away at my initial exuberance, and I could feel the smile leaving my face.
Meanwhile, Celestia and Luna's expressions left the impression of a wordless conversation in my mind.They each nodded or shook their heads in turn, obviously argueing about something of arcane importance. I couldn't, from this, tell the topic of conversation, but I could see that it was on a grave matter.
Celestia finally broke the silence. "If I may, Mr. Twinkle, may I take custody of that Wand?"
It was about here that I began to be suspicious. If she had asked to "see" it, it would be implied that it would be returned. However, she had, probably purposefully, implied that I was not to get it back. I hesitated for a moment, but then handed it to her. "Thank you. Now, are there any other prototypes?" I merely shook my head, not understanding what she was about to do.
"I'm sorry, my little pony. Some things must be done for the greater good." The ageless princess said, in the same manner Iwould apologize for hitting somepony's dog with my cart. I took a second to understand what she was saying, but by the time I did, it was too late.
The invention, the one I had spent years on, snapped in half, Celestia's yellow glow surrounding the shattered sides of a once amazing contraption.
"Star Twinkle, you are hereby ordered to cease and desist your studies into the origin and properties of magic. All works and related topics of study qre to be given to the guards for disposal. This is a matter of national security. My sister and I will secure you employment elsewhere. My guards will follow you home."
Somewhere during that explenation, I had dropped to my knees, too broken to cry. Without my studies, I was nothing. I had literally spent my life building that wand, localizing research, observing magic in use...
It is by a miracle this book still exists.
Damn Celestia and Luna's warnings, I shall find the truth. No matter who it is, or why they hide it, the truth cannot stay hidden long. Even now, I am planning how to successfully sneak into the archives, how to gather my books, how to secretly continue my study. I will be proven right, no matter the cost!
Here I stand! I can do no other! So help me Celestia, I will find the truth.
The entry ends here. Once again, there is something written in the margin, though it does not appear in his hand.
Seek.
Find.
Look.
Hide.
Hide your eyes.
The light will burn.
Knowladge.
Kills.
For the Dreamer still slumbers.
Life.
Death.
Age.
Youth.
Light that burns.
Fire that glows.
Illumination of the truth.
Something screwy is afoot, and I am determined to find out what.
I'm sorry about that note in the Author's note last week. I have no idea who wrote that or when. I will find out, but it appears my account is fine. I am a little suspicious that someone is pranking me, now, with some of this crap. However, I intend to see this through to the end.
March 21st, 1003 A.E.
That's it. I am officially a criminal. But, I am a criminal seeking knowladge, and this makes me a different breed of criminal from the ruffians that the word evokes images of. No, I seek not riches or power. I want to find the truth.
It is not easy, though. It is as if an occult hand is stopping me from persuing my goal, making my life difficult at every turn, stopping me from ever finding what I so long to know.
I did it. I broke into the Royal Arrchives, in a manner so conveluted and fiendishly clever that I fear to reproduce it here, as it would takee volumes. Suffice it to say the Royal Archives are not as carefully guarded as one might expect, as most criminals do not seek knowladge.
I wonder how long it will take them to realize that "On the Origin of the Arcane" by Star Swirl the Bearded is missing. I hear it has not been consulted for hundreds of years, the majority of his students focusing on his Time Spells. I, of course, know better. I have in my hooves his life's work, which before he could realize I lost.
However, it is written in a cypher almost as complex as the stories he weaves. He and I think alike. I think I will use this bookas my place to store translations. It might make the margins messy, but it is the only place they don't know about.
I am being watched. Of this I am certain. They must be guards, but I never see them. It is more of a feeling. A feeling of dread, reinforced by ominous omins. For example, I am certain I left my pen on my desk last night, but this morning Ifound it under my pillow. I don't understand, but I must remain extra dilligent to avoid my work being destroyed.
I shall begin translating tomorrow. Goodnight.
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Notice of Author Termination
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Added. A note on the Historie of Magic
Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter. Entry #459*(@*$%%
This entry was first in the book, though it appears to have been the last written.
It is all for naught. All of it, all of us, harmony, friendship...
I must gather my thoughts. I am smarter than this. I cannot allow myself to be so easily broken, so easily battered. I admit my findings are rather disturbing, and I cannot fully comprehend the things I have found. One thing is certain, though. Whoever said "knowledge is power" has a lot to learn about the world.
All night, that Luna-cursed poem has been rushing through my head. Over and over I see him, sitting there, writhing in pain, wanting the madness to stop, wishing to wake up from this nightmare. Oh, how I long to return to that blissful state of ignorance! I had a life, I had hopes and aspirations. I had a family, a job...
What do I have now? What have I accomplished? Faust-curse it, I cannot say I am glad to have taken this road. What imagined life I had is gone, now. I cannot work. I cannot love. I no longer feel happiness or sorrow, warmth or cold, love or hate. For how can you "feel" an emotion that is not yours? I have no emotions, for I have no me.
And if She wakes up, I cease to exist.
There is still time. While saving myself or my race is far out of hand, what magic I still have left I can use. I will send this manuscript, along with the key to the cypher, through the one dimensional portal I can still create. I just hope someone reads it. Someone finds it. My life may be in vain, but the warning can, perhaps save them.
Or, as I write this, I shudder. What if, through my writing, I reveal something about the Faust-world not even they were meant to know?
Oh, by the gods, I cannot stay here while a people live in ignorance, and die in vain. The truth must come out, now that I know it, and the people must wake up. They must wake so that She still slumbers.
If no action is taken, they are just as doomed as us. Here the text switches to plain English. I beseech you, whoever finds and reads this book, to use this knowledge as you see fit. The horrors of this life may be spared you and your people, if you read this tome and take to heart all it says.
Guard your sanity, for it is the dearest thing to you. Never let hope die... Die. Death. Despair...
No! I must finish my instruction! The nurse may come in at any second, and I must have sent it by then. Sent... Sending, sender, oh how fun words are! Wax, wane, wont, want...
Sleep. Dream. Imagine. Believe. Sleep as She sleeps, dream the most joyful dream...
Go. Go to sleep.
The text ends here.
