What the Mirror Sawby SeirhuneChaptersAn Agent of the CrownHolding the Mirror to the HeartThe Importance of Not Being an IdiotA Letter Found in Locker #730 An Agent of the CrownFinal Report on the events of the Trans-planar incident: PS, You will be pleased to know that despite the conflagration the final stages of the plan met with that I can report additional success on multiple fronts. The technological reports will be sent later to be analyzed by the team. Currently I am unsure as to the ramifications of attempting to bring any items back with me, so currently that will be an experiment postponed. More mundane items seems to change to fit the particulars of the plane, based on the most sensible societal analog. However, I do not know what would occur with things that potentially have no analog on either side. My research and conclusions on the effects of trans-planar magical manipulation in a null-plane are attached. A copy is being sent to the horns at HQ for further analysis. It certainly has an optimistic view for pan-harmonic actions in the future, and perhaps indicates a potential avenue of dimensional fusion, if it is in your interest to pursue. The malleability of the place and people themselves as well as the malleability they impose other things could be beneficial. The ease of both the initial star turn and the responding manipulation was surprising. Distance from the source plane perhaps leaves such things more open to corruption, stripping it from the safeguards present at home. As to my personal assessment of events, I must say that PH must be thrilled over how things shaped up. Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Luckily for us, the target is unlikely to pose much threat and certainly meets PH’s preferred criteria. With proper handling, she won’t even feel inclined to question some of the inconsistencies. I still recommend you get PH to take acting lessons, however. My associates told me her performance would be laughable to someone with more experience, and her poor delivery on cover stories could jeopardize future missions. I will remain here under cover for the time being, I do not expect any problems in the interim. I will reinitiate contact as soon as alignment is reacquired. Agent 2S Holding the Mirror to the HeartThey thought nothing of it. I, on the other hoof, don’t have that luxury. Except for one little detail the test went as well as I could have hoped. Now I have to figure out if I can change her mind without anyone knowing what needed changing in the first place. He is loyal and helpful and loves her unconditionally, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at the symbolism her mind fashioned. She would be devastated if she realized. He would be devastated if he realized. He was never meant to follow her. I should have been more careful. I have heard that the deer say that the face one has while sleeping is the truest face, stripped free of the masks wakefulness holds. The Mirror offers a constructed dream for the dreamer to tell a story of what matters to them and what they hold in their heart. A similar principle, we hold up this Mirror to see truths of the self. He was never meant to follow her. I pray to Faust they never know the truth the Mirror showed me. She acted with love and compassion to all in her heart. Even to him she was valiant and kind as her mind fashioned him into something less. Even as he accepted to be fashioned into something less. His greatest fear is to leave her, but if he is to grow in her eyes and in his own they have to be apart. He was never meant to follow her. I hope they never find out more than I hope they forgive me for sending him on a ‘mission’. Somewhere he can grow into someone that commands respect instead of accepting a collar. I will send the letters to them and the Ranger Commander in the morning. -From the Diary of Celestia The Importance of Not Being an Idiot“Principal Celestia?” She looked up from her desk to see Flash Sentry nervously standing in her doorway with a sheaf of papers in his hand. With a cocked eyebrow and a small smile she waved him to the chair in front of her. “What can I do for you, Flash Sentry?” “Well….umm…I…I’m worried about Vice Principal Luna, ma’am.” Flash shifted a bit in his seat and looked down at the contents of his hands, which Celestia could now see were photographs. She nodded for him to continue, which he did, with an audible swallow. “You see, we didn’t want to mention it earlier what with the excitement from the Fall Formal and I certainly didn’t want to say it to her face, but we’re worried that something is wrong with her because she couldn’t catch the frame job Sunset Shimmer tried to pull on Twilight.” “From what I understand Shimmer doctored some photographs, Flash. I have heard she had acquired a good grasp of our technology, so I am not surprised she was able to alter photographs well enough to throw off my sister.” Celestia tried to take a peek at the likely photographs in Flash’s hands. Luna had given her a rough overview of the event and apologized, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to see the photos in question. She held out a hand in silent request and, somewhat red-faced, Flash handed them over and Celestia looked through them. The silence grew long and oppressive. Flash wondered if escape was an option. He knew messengers bearing bad news sometimes didn’t have the best of ends. He closed his eyes as she flipped through the photos and corresponding evidence of tampering. The silence ended with a sharp thud. He opened his eyes and saw the pictures piled neatly on the desk and a blank-faced principal nodding to him. He thought she maybe her forehead was a little red, but before he could add the small numbers together Principal Celestia spoke. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Flash. I understand your concerns and will do what I can.” Flash nodded thankfully and took that as a cue to beat feet back to class. Celestia rose from her desk and quietly shut her door. She quietly got her jacket and quietly wadded it up and shoved her face into it. She quietly screamed… “Glued on! GLUED! For pity’s sake!” Needless to say, Vice Principal Luna was quietly reassigned to a less challenging job at the Selenic Academy across town. A Letter Found in Locker #730 A Letter Found in Locker #730 If you are reading this letter, you must really be persistent. Also, I am probably not dead, though that would be dramatically satisfying for an opener. I mean, I really planned to wedge this behind the left locker panel really tight. Did you get a crowbar? I suppose you want a reward. Fine. I’ll tell you my secret. I never thought that, in the end, my hero would be Lazlo. Also 36-23-55. I know it’s not the right combination to this locker, just trust me. Sorry, even my letters ramble now. I guess if you were determined enough to find this then you might sympathize with my eccentricities. You might even look in the mirror and see a face not colored with the most insane colors out of a box of Crayola. Probably or hopefully, I’m long gone. It’s hard to remember who changed first. It is easy to remember how no one seemed bothered as it started spreading. The ones with mostly the odd hair colors passed by without notice from me, probably. After all, who the flip cares what people’s hair color is these days? The first girl to come in with greenish skin though… The colors. The colors and the names. No one seemed to care! I wasn’t a bad student, and I tried to blend in as things progressed. I remember telling my parents once what was happening, but they didn’t seem bothered. They changed too, much later. The students changed first though. Then the adults. They still knew me, somewhat, and I quickly learned to adapt to their styles and their new names. They were similar people at least. Families stayed together, with one exception. The project was done by then, at least. I learned when to blend in and I learned when to hide. Do you? Do you need to? Maybe you exist here and there. I think I only exist here, and that’s the problem. Or perhaps the solution. I wonder what would happen if I had stepped through the portal. Would I cease to exist? Maybe I’ll come back one day and find out. If I still exist I hope I can…put things back the way they were. If you understand, godspeed to you. If you don’t then…well, enjoy the magic and leave this letter for the next guy. Sincerely, The last Camelot High Stallion. Author's Note I have no editor so forgive (whilst pointing out) my unedited sins.
An Agent of the CrownFinal Report on the events of the Trans-planar incident: PS, You will be pleased to know that despite the conflagration the final stages of the plan met with that I can report additional success on multiple fronts. The technological reports will be sent later to be analyzed by the team. Currently I am unsure as to the ramifications of attempting to bring any items back with me, so currently that will be an experiment postponed. More mundane items seems to change to fit the particulars of the plane, based on the most sensible societal analog. However, I do not know what would occur with things that potentially have no analog on either side. My research and conclusions on the effects of trans-planar magical manipulation in a null-plane are attached. A copy is being sent to the horns at HQ for further analysis. It certainly has an optimistic view for pan-harmonic actions in the future, and perhaps indicates a potential avenue of dimensional fusion, if it is in your interest to pursue. The malleability of the place and people themselves as well as the malleability they impose other things could be beneficial. The ease of both the initial star turn and the responding manipulation was surprising. Distance from the source plane perhaps leaves such things more open to corruption, stripping it from the safeguards present at home. As to my personal assessment of events, I must say that PH must be thrilled over how things shaped up. Apparently, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Luckily for us, the target is unlikely to pose much threat and certainly meets PH’s preferred criteria. With proper handling, she won’t even feel inclined to question some of the inconsistencies. I still recommend you get PH to take acting lessons, however. My associates told me her performance would be laughable to someone with more experience, and her poor delivery on cover stories could jeopardize future missions. I will remain here under cover for the time being, I do not expect any problems in the interim. I will reinitiate contact as soon as alignment is reacquired. Agent 2S
Holding the Mirror to the HeartThey thought nothing of it. I, on the other hoof, don’t have that luxury. Except for one little detail the test went as well as I could have hoped. Now I have to figure out if I can change her mind without anyone knowing what needed changing in the first place. He is loyal and helpful and loves her unconditionally, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised at the symbolism her mind fashioned. She would be devastated if she realized. He would be devastated if he realized. He was never meant to follow her. I should have been more careful. I have heard that the deer say that the face one has while sleeping is the truest face, stripped free of the masks wakefulness holds. The Mirror offers a constructed dream for the dreamer to tell a story of what matters to them and what they hold in their heart. A similar principle, we hold up this Mirror to see truths of the self. He was never meant to follow her. I pray to Faust they never know the truth the Mirror showed me. She acted with love and compassion to all in her heart. Even to him she was valiant and kind as her mind fashioned him into something less. Even as he accepted to be fashioned into something less. His greatest fear is to leave her, but if he is to grow in her eyes and in his own they have to be apart. He was never meant to follow her. I hope they never find out more than I hope they forgive me for sending him on a ‘mission’. Somewhere he can grow into someone that commands respect instead of accepting a collar. I will send the letters to them and the Ranger Commander in the morning. -From the Diary of Celestia
The Importance of Not Being an Idiot“Principal Celestia?” She looked up from her desk to see Flash Sentry nervously standing in her doorway with a sheaf of papers in his hand. With a cocked eyebrow and a small smile she waved him to the chair in front of her. “What can I do for you, Flash Sentry?” “Well….umm…I…I’m worried about Vice Principal Luna, ma’am.” Flash shifted a bit in his seat and looked down at the contents of his hands, which Celestia could now see were photographs. She nodded for him to continue, which he did, with an audible swallow. “You see, we didn’t want to mention it earlier what with the excitement from the Fall Formal and I certainly didn’t want to say it to her face, but we’re worried that something is wrong with her because she couldn’t catch the frame job Sunset Shimmer tried to pull on Twilight.” “From what I understand Shimmer doctored some photographs, Flash. I have heard she had acquired a good grasp of our technology, so I am not surprised she was able to alter photographs well enough to throw off my sister.” Celestia tried to take a peek at the likely photographs in Flash’s hands. Luna had given her a rough overview of the event and apologized, but she hadn’t gotten a chance to see the photos in question. She held out a hand in silent request and, somewhat red-faced, Flash handed them over and Celestia looked through them. The silence grew long and oppressive. Flash wondered if escape was an option. He knew messengers bearing bad news sometimes didn’t have the best of ends. He closed his eyes as she flipped through the photos and corresponding evidence of tampering. The silence ended with a sharp thud. He opened his eyes and saw the pictures piled neatly on the desk and a blank-faced principal nodding to him. He thought she maybe her forehead was a little red, but before he could add the small numbers together Principal Celestia spoke. “Thank you for bringing this to my attention, Flash. I understand your concerns and will do what I can.” Flash nodded thankfully and took that as a cue to beat feet back to class. Celestia rose from her desk and quietly shut her door. She quietly got her jacket and quietly wadded it up and shoved her face into it. She quietly screamed… “Glued on! GLUED! For pity’s sake!” Needless to say, Vice Principal Luna was quietly reassigned to a less challenging job at the Selenic Academy across town.
A Letter Found in Locker #730 A Letter Found in Locker #730 If you are reading this letter, you must really be persistent. Also, I am probably not dead, though that would be dramatically satisfying for an opener. I mean, I really planned to wedge this behind the left locker panel really tight. Did you get a crowbar? I suppose you want a reward. Fine. I’ll tell you my secret. I never thought that, in the end, my hero would be Lazlo. Also 36-23-55. I know it’s not the right combination to this locker, just trust me. Sorry, even my letters ramble now. I guess if you were determined enough to find this then you might sympathize with my eccentricities. You might even look in the mirror and see a face not colored with the most insane colors out of a box of Crayola. Probably or hopefully, I’m long gone. It’s hard to remember who changed first. It is easy to remember how no one seemed bothered as it started spreading. The ones with mostly the odd hair colors passed by without notice from me, probably. After all, who the flip cares what people’s hair color is these days? The first girl to come in with greenish skin though… The colors. The colors and the names. No one seemed to care! I wasn’t a bad student, and I tried to blend in as things progressed. I remember telling my parents once what was happening, but they didn’t seem bothered. They changed too, much later. The students changed first though. Then the adults. They still knew me, somewhat, and I quickly learned to adapt to their styles and their new names. They were similar people at least. Families stayed together, with one exception. The project was done by then, at least. I learned when to blend in and I learned when to hide. Do you? Do you need to? Maybe you exist here and there. I think I only exist here, and that’s the problem. Or perhaps the solution. I wonder what would happen if I had stepped through the portal. Would I cease to exist? Maybe I’ll come back one day and find out. If I still exist I hope I can…put things back the way they were. If you understand, godspeed to you. If you don’t then…well, enjoy the magic and leave this letter for the next guy. Sincerely, The last Camelot High Stallion. Author's Note I have no editor so forgive (whilst pointing out) my unedited sins.
