Dead/Lightby Lord DestrustorChaptersRise/AwakeDeny/LaughRage/FakesSeek/TruthLive/DeathRise/AwakeEverything was so fuzzy. All around me were thousands of strange blobs of indistinct color, mixing and weaving and colliding every which way, all so bright yet at the same time seeming to be plunged in inscrutable darkness. It was intensely weird. That experiment was a total failure. I had done all the calculations correctly, though. At least, I thought I did. I mean, I had triple-checked absolutely everything. It shouldn’t have blown up in my face, …again. I’d have to review my notes a few dozen times more, now. Ugh, why couldn’t I get it right? This was supposed to work! I was… pretty sure it should have worked. Maybe. Hmm, the daze was still going strong. It usually faded after a few minutes, but this time it seemed to have decided to take its sweet time. How long had it been yet? I couldn’t even guess, I seemed to have lost all sense of time. I couldn’t even feel my hooves or my brand new wings. Nothing to worry about, though, It was certainly nothing more than a temporary bout of spatial unawareness. The blast had been surprisingly strong, no wonder I was confused. Oh well, I’d just have to wait it out a little longer. I kept watching the colors for a while, but something felt increasingly wrong, though I couldn’t quite place my hoof on it. I felt… tired, but still perfectly awake, like I was drifting off to sleep while within a dream. Or something of the sort. And the colors were more and more jarring. They were all familiar, and while I could probably name them all, they still felt off somehow. The fact that I couldn’t decide if they were blindingly bright or unnaturally dark was only one of my problems with them. They were also strangely impossible to identify; I could see the different hues and the spaces they occupied, but deciding which color was which seemed impossible. Was that green, yellow or red? And this one; blue, purple or orange? I couldn’t tell. I wished this daze would be over soon. It was getting upsetting, especially the sounds I could now hear. Distant wind, it seemed, but also like a whisper all around me. And some sort of weird tugging sensation. What was that? It felt similar to the sort of exhaustion I would too often get from using too much magic. But this time was different, a stronger pull. As if my magic was pouring out of me entirely. Wait. This wasn’t good. Leaking magic is never, ever good. I tried to get it under control, to stop the flow. It was extremely difficult. There seemed to be a barrier of sorts, an unusual resistance to the whole process. The more I struggled, the harder it became, as if my very efforts were draining me. After what felt like hours, I decided I needed to try another approach. I then remembered a piece of advice I had read in a book somewhere, about how struggling against quicksand only made you sink faster, or maybe it was about how panicking after a snakebite made the poison’s travel through your veins easier. Something along those lines. Maybe trying to force it just didn’t help. I thought back to my lessons with Zecora, how she had taught me forms of meditation, ways to center oneself and reach new understandings and solutions to one’s problems. I really needed to get that magic back under control; it was beginning to run out. No sense in not trying her methods, frankly. So I concentrated, on silence, on nothing. Ignored the freaky colors and weird sounds until they went away. I visualized myself, then the room around me, then the city around it, then the world and so on until I could see the whole universe in my mind, with myself in the middle. And then… plunged back into it all, with my focus unwavering and my mind set, letting myself sink to the bottom of myself in one great metaphysical dive. To let nothing stand in my way while at the same time refusing to oppose any obstacle. It helped. The colors faded, the sounds vanished, I felt my magic had stopped leaking. I began to feel a soft surface beneath my body. There was still some resistance, though. Hmm. Good thing I’m a magical genius, I thought, immediately before realizing that it was an unbelievably arrogant thing to think. A few tweaks to the energies here, some minor stabilizing bindings there, just a pinch of healing magic, and a small jolt of electricity through my nervous system to chase the numbness, and voila! I could feel myself fully grounded now, back to normal. I took a deep breath. It smelled like wet soil. I opened my eyes, absolute darkness greeted them. What? I lit up my horn, only to find myself trapped in a small, richly padded room. No, not a room. A box. A small, pony-sized box furnished with thin, soft cushions of the purest white silk, with a lid of highly-polished varnished wood. A coffin. I was in a coffin. That… that just couldn’t be right. I couldn’t be in a coffin. I couldn’t be in a coffin! Who put me there? Who did this to me? What in Equestria was going on? “Hey! Get me out of here!” I yelled, only answered by the oppressive silence. My voice was so hoarse, and my throat so dry, that I had barely recognized it as my own. I had to have been stuck in there for a while. That I had only an unknown, rapidly dwindling supply of air worried me, but not enough to stop me from hammering at the wooden ceiling while screaming for help. I had been buried alive. The lid didn’t give way under the assault of my hooves. It didn’t even shake. It was like hitting a solid brick wall. Or the underside of a metric ton of dirt. Someone had literally buried me alive. I was at an undetermined depth, underground. I screamed. For a while I just screamed, overtaken by the terror of the nightmarish scenario I had been put into. This couldn’t happen. Somepony had made a terrible mistake. Eventually I forced myself to stop, realizing I should be trying to conserve air. I had to think rationally, logically. I had a way out of this. I had to have a way out of this! I couldn’t just open the lid and step out, but I had other options; being the element of magic and one of the most knowledgeable unicorns in the land opened a lot of doors. I could do this. I could teleport out. Yes! I could just magic myself out of this tomb and out into the fresh outside air! I quickly estimated my reserves and frowned; I had just enough for a very short-range displacement. One very close teleport. I couldn’t just warp to my house, and probably not to any other familiar place, unless I was currently right under them. I could only make a few meters at most. I could’ve risked shooting straight up at maximum distance, but the prospect of finding myself falling from an undetermined height and potentially hurting myself wasn’t really appealing. While I indeed did possess wings now, I still wasn’t fully confident in my abilities, and already felt tired enough that even with adequate skill I probably would have crashed anyways. I needed to test the waters, in a way. I could try some very specific, very small teleportations from different heights above me until I found a distance that brought only air, indicating the surface. They would only reduce my possible escape range by a few centimeters each. The first try brought dirt. The second, a pebble. I was at least two meters down, it seemed. The third draw was the winner: nothing but an infinitesimal breath of fresh air was dragged into my prison. Three meters straight up. I could do this. I would be free in an instant. I concentrated for a moment, pouring about half of my remaining reserves into the spell, and soon heard the telltale zap, and smelled the slight hint of ozone of a successful teleportation. My hooves landed on the soft dirt after a second. Sweet, glorious freedom at last! The darkness of night greeted my eyes as I opened them, comparatively and refreshingly bright after the terrible penumbra of the coffin. A half moon hung in the sky as I looked around the graveyard in which I found myself. Unfamiliar in the darkness, I eventually recognized it as the Ponyville cemetery. I turned around to look at “my” grave, only to come face to face with an impressive, extravagant mausoleum. The front bore an inscription detailing my name and most prominent accomplishments, as well as the dates of my birth and “death”. The date of my death was today. That was ridiculous. Who would do this? How was this even possible? Someone had built a royal tomb for me in the span of a single day, just to bury me alive. What? Why? Had someone just made an attempt on my life? I needed to find someone, anyone. Something so big was bound to have attracted some major attention, and I wanted answers. I thought about returning to Ponyville, but I remembered that there were two paths leading from here to there; one was shorter, but the other passed close to Fluttershy’s cottage. I took the longer route. I needed to see a friend. It’s not every day you get buried alive, I would certainly call that a stressful experience. Fluttershy’s kindness would help me relax a lot. It was strangely hard to walk, as if all my muscles ached, like being sore but without the pain. I felt… heavy, somehow. I must have cramped up a bit in that confined coffin. I’d eventually walk it off. The night seemed cool, as indicated by the faint frost gathering on the blades of grass, but I felt fine. No doubt being cooped up in there without aeration raised my temperature, and I had yet to really start to cool down. I wondered how long I’d been in there. Last I recalled, it was only a few minutes past noon when I failed my experiment, and now the night seemed well on its merry way. Whoever did this must have used or prolonged my unconsciousness to get me in there. Still, I felt slightly miffed that no one had thought to try to wake me up. I’d at least expect someone to have heard the explosion and rushed to my aid. Those responsible for this must have been very quick to get to me before anypony else. And wasn’t the moon supposed to be just within its first quarter? As Fluttershy’s cottage grew ever closer in the moonlight, I began to hear a faint, muffled agitation from inside. Small animal cries and persistent scratching echoed from within. As I stepped over the bridge crossing the little stream in front of her house, I even saw a few critters climbing out of the windows and running off into the night. How strange. I thought I heard Fluttershy’s voice through the din. She seemed to be trying to calm the animals down. I came up to her door and knocked. The whole cottage went silent for a moment, before the frantic activity resumed with renewed vigor. “Fluttershy! Open up, it’s me! I need to talk to you!” Wow, my voice was hoarse. I almost sounded like Rainbow Dash. I tried to clear it by coughing while I waited. As more and more animals fled from the house through every possible nook, I heard hesitant hoofsteps approaching. “Rainbow, is that you? I don’t understand what’s going on! All my animals are scared of something.” The door clicked and started to open, letting Fluttershy’s mane fill the opening for a moment before her face slid into view. “If you don’t mind, maybe you could help me and then we… can… “ Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open, and she took a sharp, shuddering breath before retreating into the darkness of her home without another word. I held the door and gently pushed my way in. “Fluttershy? What’s wrong? Where are you?” I stepped into a small, smelly puddle. It was warm and smelled of… urine? Eww. “Fluttershy? I think one of your critters made a mess on the floor! Where are you? Someone buried me alive! Do you know anything about that?” I heard a bump somewhere in front of me. Straining my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a pony-sized lump pushing against the cupboards in Fluttershy’s kitchen. What was going on here? I got closer, lighting my horn to chase the darkness of the room. In the bright glow, among the cowering animals I could see fleeing everywhere, sat Fluttershy, her hooves frantically trying to push her further back. She stared straight at me, repeatedly gasping in obvious terror, hyperventilating for some reason. “Fluttershy? What’s wrong?” I tried to sound as reassuring as possible, so as not to scare her further. She really seemed terrified by something, though I couldn’t quite understand what. Why would she be scared of me? That made no sense. It was probably something behind me; it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d gotten in trouble by pure obliviousness. Wait, something behind me? I spun around immediately, charging what little magic had returned to me in my horn in order to be ready. Nothing. Not even a single one of my friend’s animals, just shadows in an empty house. I heard a knocking sound behind me, and felt a sudden rush of air. I looked back to see a recently-opened window above the sink, and Fluttershy gone. “Wait!” I yelled, stretching over the sink to peek through the window, seeing Fluttershy gallop away at a speed I’d never thought she could muster. “Fluttershy! What are you doing? Where are you going? Fluttershy!” She was already so far, I couldn’t hope to catch up with her, especially with how winded I still felt from being stuck in the confines of the coffin. And although I was recovering my magic, it still wasn’t nearly enough to simply teleport to her. “Fluttershy…” What had gotten into her? I dropped back to my hooves, in the total silence of the now perfectly-empty cottage. All the animals were gone too. What was going on? I decided to just try somepony else. Applejack lived nearby as well. It was a shorter trip than heading to Ponyville anyway. I closed Fluttershy’s front door and left. I hoped she was safe. I’d never seen her so scared before, I still struggled to figure out what had put her in such a state of shock. Maybe whoever tried to assassinate me threatened her or something. Now I really needed answers about whatever was going on. Hopefully Applejack would help with that. I followed the road in the silent night. Despite Fluttershy’s fear and the possibility that whatever had caused it might still be lurking around, I found the short journey far from worrisome. The calm darkness was serene, as if everything, every little creature of the night, paused their activities to let me pass unopposed. All around me was a ring of silence, an aura of tranquility. It was fairly relaxing. The fear of suffocating underground seemed so far away now. I felt good, more and more lively; my waxing magic building back up inside certainly helped in that regard. Nighttime’s scariness was overrated. I was almost skipping by the time I passed the arch allowing passage through the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Despite the hour, a light shone from one of the windows. It was one of which opened to the dining room, near the back of the farmhouse. Deciding not to disturb the whole household by knocking on the front door, I approached the back porch. I don’t really know what I was expecting to see; maybe one or more of my friends either planning my rescue or having a simple normal moment, unaware of my abduction. Whatever normal, innocuous activities might keep a farmer up this late at night I couldn’t quite fathom, but no matter. What I didn’t expect to see when I peeked through the window screen, however, was my earth pony friend sitting alone at the table with a mug of cider in hoof and a few additional empty mugs littering the surface. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she quietly stroked her faithful dog’s head as it sat next to her in her glaring yet incomprehensible sorrow. I stared for a moment, taken aback by Applejack’s unusual attitude. The sound of growling snapped me out of it, as Winona had suddenly tensed up and began barring her teeth in my direction. She probably didn’t recognize me in the darkness of the outside, as she was usually such a well-behaved dog. I decided to just enter the home since my presence had already been announced. Besides, politeness could wait: I had a friend to try to comfort, and questions I needed answered. “Good evening, A.J. ! What’s the matter tonight?” I said as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Two things happened at once, both of which confused me greatly: Winona began barking loudly and aggressively in my direction, and Applejack shot up in her seat, eyes wide in… fear? No, no, no, surprise; she was surprised to see me, although I could understand why: ponies just weren’t supposed to be wandering this late at night. I tried to speak over the barking to no avail; my voice just didn’t seem to project enough. After a few seconds of simply staring at me, Applejack finally silenced the dog with a yell of her own. Winona kept growling menacingly as the silence returned. My honest friend eventually rose from her seat, pushing her mug away and commanding her dog to sit. She walked closer, hesitantly, almost fearfully, and in complete silence. “Applejack, what in Equestria is going on?” My raspy voice made her recoil, her ears flattening against her skull. “I reckon I’d rightly like to know myself.” She took the last three steps separating us and slowly raised a hoof to my chest, holding it against my skin for a moment. She felt so warm in the cool night air. “…Why yes, Applejack, I actually do exist, thank you. Now would you really mind explaining why everypony I know seems to be going insane?” I then noticed how her eyes had widened and her pupils shrunk at my touch, before she quickly took her hoof away from me as if I was on fire. She opened her mouth a few times, seemingly looking for words. For a moment, all I could hear was the low growls of Winona, until a muffled gasp was heard from the stairs. Applejack’s ears perked up and, while still looking straight at me, she said: “Apple Bloom, I want you to go to your room, lock the door, and don’t come out until I say it’s okay.” She waited a few seconds, visibly tensing up with each passing one, until a shout of “NOW!” caused a frantic scramble of hoofbeats to echo away upstairs. I heard a door slam shut. My confusion and irritation reached new peaks. No one’s actions made any sense, and I had a feeling akin to being the only one in a room who had failed to get an obvious joke. “Applejack, seriously! What in the world is going on? I get foalnapped and buried alive in a giant mausoleum built overnight, and no one seems to care! Who did this to me, and why weren’t you out there either kicking their flank or rescuing me? What. Is. Going. ON?” She stared at me throughout my mild outburst, and I caught her quietly repeating “alive” under her breath. Her silence continued for a brief moment after I was done, her never-ending stare still fixated on me. “Well?” I asked, snapping her out of her apparent reverie. She opened her mouth a few times, until she finally stammered: “I… you… I… Let me get, uh, something real quick-like. I… think I have something to tell you. Don’t move.” She rushed past me and out the back door, her steps rapidly quieting in the dark outside. I stood there, under the extremely and annoyingly, unnaturally angry gaze of Winona as she kept growling at me. She kept herself crouched close to the wooden floorboards, her legs spread wide and ready for anything, though I still had no clue what had her so riled up. I heard the hoof-falls of my returning friend, but kept my eyes on her dog. She seemed poised to strike at me, and I worried that averting my gaze would only prompt her to do so. What was up with that dog? As finally Applejack walked past me once more, carrying a white box by its handle held in her mouth, I was free to look away. I recognized the white box as it thunked on the table: it was the medical kit she usually kept in the barn, the one with which she cared for the occasional sick or hurt cow, sheep or pig residing on the farm. I wondered what she needed it for, and most importantly what it had to do with me and my still-unanswered questions. She opened it briefly, just long enough to grab a single tool: a stethoscope. She hooked the ear buds on and brought the flat head to her chest for a moment, then to mine. She took a slow, deep breath as her jaw clenched and her irises shrunk just a bit further. Gulping, she then slowly placed the tool in my own ears and repeated the process. As she held the head to her heart, I could easily hear its frantic percussion as well as the wooshing rush of her every breath. A cacophonous melody of thumps and rushing wind, as if a dance was taking place on two carpets rubbing over one another, all of which happened in my very ears. I then watched as she brought the instrument away from herself and slowly, hesitantly, placed it on my chest, at the base of my neck. Silence. Complete and utter silence. The drummers were gone, the storm muted, the dancers had gone home and their music had ceased, leaving nothing but an empty room plunged in darkness. Silence. An endless, unbroken, total and smothering silence. A dead silence. “Twilight,” she whispered, swallowing hard as the smell of her alcohol-infused breath reached my nostrils. “You… You’ve been dead for a week.” Author's Note 1/5 Deny/LaughI just stared at Applejack for a moment, our bodies’ movements producing a low, ambient scratching sound in my ears as the stethoscope rubbed against the base of my neck. Her green, bloodshot eyes boring into mine, unmoving, unblinking, filled with confusion and fear. Winona’s growls quieted for the time being, apparently smothered by the sudden tension of what I had just been told by my friend. My honest, truthful friend, whom I had every reason to trust, whom I knew I should never doubt for any reason or any circumstance. My trustworthy friend who had apparently gone certifiably, terrifyingly, borderline criminally insane. “Pfah-ha-ha-ha-ha!” My laughter pierced the night, quickly escalating to a full-blown, high-pitched, rasping wheeze. I coughed again and laughed a bit more. Sweet Celestia my throat was so dry, I must’ve been a lot more thirsty than I thought. “Ha-ha-ha… heh, you got me there for a second, A.J., I never knew you were such a good actor!” She had taken a step back at my outburst, hesitating as I choked, before setting her hooves back down as I had kept speaking. She was now looking at me with a worried yet still subtly terrified expression. “Twi…” “I mean, really, ‘You’re dead’…Ha! Good one! I almost believed you for a second! Who knew the element of honesty could have such a perfect poker face!” “But Twilight…” “You can stop pretending now, I already busted you! Who put you up to this anyway? Was it Pinkie? No, wait, that sounds more like something Rainbow would come up with. Are they hiding somewhere in here? Come out guys! That was a very funny prank, but playtime’s over!” I scanned the room, waiting for Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash to burst out of the cupboards or something. “Twilight!” “Seriously, me, dead? Ha! I’m obviously alive, really; I’m standing right here! Zombies don’t exist, any rational mind knows that!” “Twil-“ “I’M NOT DEAD!” My deafening scream echoed through the house, but I didn’t mind as I forced air in and out of my lungs in a rapid tempo. Applejack stood further back, one hoof raised as if she was seriously considering fleeing my presence, her terror readily apparent on her face. The stethoscope faintly thumped on the ground as it fell from my ears. “I’m not dead! I’m standing right here! I’m speaking to you! I can’t be dead! I’m alive and moving and conscious, and I’m certainly not a ghost because you touched me just a second ago, and I’m not a zombie because they don’t exist, and I’m not dead because how could I be dead if I’m here and moving and thinking and speaking at this unreasonable pace even when it’s perfectly justified by my most honest friend trying to tell me a blatant lie, because she wants me to believe I’m dead when I most obviously am not. I’m. Not. Dead. I’m not dead, I’m not dead, I’M NOT DEAD!” The horror on her face slowly melted, morphing into some sort of pained sorrow as her eyes glistened with forming tears. “I don’t know what to tell you, Twi, I-“ “JUST STOP LYING TO ME! I’m not dead! Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you? Whatever it is, I’m sure we could work it out without resorting to… whatever it is you’re trying to do here! Aren’t we friends? What kind of sick joke is this? What kind of sick bastard would do this to a friend? Did you build that giant stupid mausoleum?” “But you’re dead, I saw your body! I-“ “Stop it stop it stop it STOP THAT! I’m not dead! This isn’t funny anymore! How dare you do this to me! What is wrong with you?” I stepped forward while screaming, making her back up into a wall while Winona took her place in front of me. She was barking freely now, her fur bristling as she shielded her master from me. “And what is wrong with your stupid dog? Why can’t she shut up? Did you actually train her to bark at me like an insane mutt, barking and barking and BARKING to drive me insane? To make me snap? To harass me into insanity while you lie to me, to weaken and torture my mind while you work your horrible little lies into my head? It’s not going to work because she’s going TO SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP YOU STUPID VERMIN!” As I screamed into her face, Winona grew more and more aggressive, her fur bristling ever wider and her posture lowering some more, until I saw her claws suddenly dig into the old wood of the floor. She lunged at me, jaws wide, aiming for my head or somesuch. I simply grabbed her with my telekinesis, clamping her mouth shut in the process. “Shut up.” I socked her in the face with my hoof and shook her magically before throwing her into a wall. A small yelp of pain accompanied a faint crack as she tumbled to the floor. “Shut up,” I repeated to the twitching dog, before whirling back to face Applejack. I was so angry at her, so frustrated by her stubborn refusal to face the truth. How could she lie to me, straight to my face, and say I was dead? I didn’t care that she had backed up into a corner, still pushing her hooves in an attempt to get further away from me. All part of her cruel, senseless act. She wanted me to believe that she was terrified of me, that I was something to fear; some sort of ghost or revenant or zombie. That horrible, cruel joke had gotten stale about forever ago. It was about time this charade ended. “Now, Applejack. You’re going to tell me the truth.” I slowly walked up to her as I spoke, closing the distance between us. She tried to kick at me with her hind legs: I held them to the floor with my magic. “Could a dead pony do this? Would a dead pony be talking to you and moving around? The dead don’t come back, Applejack. So, if I’m here, and a hypothetically dead me couldn’t possibly be here, what does that mean?” I was basically over her at that point, looming over her prone form in a corner of the room. She tried to punch me, but I easily caught her hoof in my magic. I pinned it to the wall, doing the same to the other one. She was struggling, eyes closed and muttering ‘no’ over and over again while shaking her head. “Come on, it’s not that hard! A-L-I-V-E. I’m alive! Repeat after me: Twilight, you are alive. Come on, say it. Tell me I’m alive. Stop lying like a jerk and tell me I’m alive. Say it to me! SAY IT! SAY I’M ALIVE YOU BASTARD! SAY IT!!!” She was openly bawling like an infant while I screamed mere inches from her face, her whole body twitching and shaking under the strain of trying to fight off my magic grasp. I decided that I wasn’t going to stand for her trying to worm her way out of telling the truth by becoming unintelligible. I knew telling the truth always made her feel better, that was something she liked to say sometimes. ‘Telling the truth takes the weight of guilt off your back,’ she would often say. So I just needed to help her out a little. Because that’s what friends do. I extended my telekinesis to grab her jaw and began making her enunciate ‘Twilight, you’re alive’ while providing the words with my own voice. She’d thank me later. “Get the heck away from my sister!” was the only warning I got before some sort of red freight train rudely shoved me through the nearest window. Well, technically, “Get the” was the warning; the rest came after the impact, just before I was momentarily deafened by the sound of an entire window pane shattering around my barrel. I landed about a second later, rolling freely in the grass. When I got up, shaking broken glass out of my mane, I could see Big Macintosh glaring at me through the window. He seemed surprised or startled for a moment, before his face settled in a grim, defiant expression. “Dontcha dare come any closer!” he warned me. He looked at me like I was some kind of monster, some sort of deranged mare. Couldn’t he see that it was Applejack who was currently clearly demented? Applejack was lying, Somepony had buried me alive, someone threatened or blackmailed Fluttershy with something so horrible that she didn’t even want to look at me or be in the same room, the freaking moon had had its phases tampered with, and everyone looked at me like I was the crazy one? This wasn’t just a prank, it was an outright conspiracy! I needed to get out of here. I needed answers. I took off, my wings pushing me straight up until the Apple farmhouse was no more than a dot on the ground. I hovered there for a moment, catching my breath. Where could I go? Who could I seek for help? This… conspiracy ran deep; they could build a mausoleum overnight, they could convince Applejack to lie, they had either done something to the moon or to Princess Luna herself. Everypony in Ponyville was no doubt already under their control, knowing I’d go for my friends first if I ever needed help. I had already fallen for it twice, with two of them, but now I was on to them. I knew better now. I needed to do something unexpected. What would Twilight Sparkle do? What did I usually turn to when I needed help? My books. Yes, first and foremost, I’d look in my books for a solution. And then what? My friends, yes, obviously. After that? Hmm, maybe the princess. Then I’d be stumped. Good. Those were all very obvious choices I’d make, choices I’d be expected to make. I just needed to avoid them all, and the web of lies would have no way of catching me. Perfect! If I could just lay low for a while and work on sorting this out, I’d have it figured out in no time. I scanned the horizon, looking for someplace safe and far away, someplace I could hide while uncovering the truth. Canterlot caught my eyes. It was risky, with the princesses so close, but my family was there. They’d never betray me like that, they’d help me for sure. At the very least, they’d help me think of a better place to hide. I also had to make sure they were safe. My wings clapped in the silent night as I suddenly thrust myself in the direction of the lonely mountain and the sparkling city hanging on its side. The numerous lights of the numerous streetlamps of the many cramped streets and alleys formed a constellation upon which I could home in, my pace increasing effortlessly as I drew ever closer. I was no longer tired or cramped, no longer sluggish and numb. I had a plan, a goal. A purpose. I’d find out what was going on and who was responsible even if it made the orange liar’s lies true in the process. ... I sighed, letting out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. Poor Applejack. I would have some apologies to make once this was over. She didn’t deserve my wrath, the way I had lashed out at her and Winona. She was just a hapless victim of this conspiracy, no doubt convinced of the veracity of her claims by some dark means. She would never have said such awful nonsense if she had even the slightest doubts. She wouldn’t lie to me unless she really believed it. Which meant whoever was behind this was powerful indeed; to either corrupt or convince the element of honesty of such blatant fabrications, and so thoroughly that she’d defend them in the face of overwhelming evidence was a testament to the dedication of my foes. My eyes narrowed and I accelerated further. No matter who, why or how powerful they were, I would stop them. I wasn’t made a princess to be everypony’s fool. The bright metropolis grew closer and closer, until its innumerable dots of light became individually distinguishable and I could begin to recognize the streets themselves. Even from the air, my familiarity with the city guided me towards my destination as easily as ever before. Between the white towers blackened by the night I found my way, silently gliding towards my old home. My parents’ house. Not the optimal hiding place, certainly not the most secure haven, and probably expected of me; but still the one place I knew I could feel safe once more. My own family would never betray me; they’d accept me with open arms, tears of joy and relief for their miraculously safe daughter in their eyes, and a warm meal to help me recount the events of the day. A smile came to my lips as I braced for the landing, the thought of a reprieve from this nightmarish ordeal enough to make me a bit careless. The landing was less than stellar, forcing me into a short gallop past the front door as I struggled to stifle my momentum. I finally stopped nearly dead-center before the living room’s massive bay window, giggling lightly at my own clumsiness and the thought of what Rainbow Dash would have to say about such a landing. And then I began turning around to head back to the front door. And in doing so, my eyes traveled across the window and I looked through the glass. And my smile died. Author's Note Ha ha, silly Twilight; of course zombies don't exist! Technically you're a lich. 2/5 Rage/FakesShining Armor solemnly levitated a candle to place it on a low table near the fireplace. The small flame joined a few others standing at attention in front of a large, black-framed picture of myself, surrounded by flowers. He seemed to whisper a few words, his whole body shaken by sporadic sobs. After a couple of seconds, he backed away from the display to take a seat next to Cadance, where the two hugged. My parents were nearby, embracing each other in a perfect mirror of their son and his wife. All four were shedding tears and occasionally patting their backs for comfort. “W-wha…” I stammered. They were mourning. “Wha-What?” I snarled through gritted teeth. They were holding a funeral wake. For me. “What. What…” I lost sight of them for a moment, a blinding flash of light smothering the scene playing before my eyes. “WHAT IS THIS!?” I screamed as soon as my teleportation into the room was complete, the instinctive, barely-controlled burst of magic displacing and scattering the table and its contents into a room-wide shower of splinters. The various gasps and panicked cries caused by my explosive irruption were all mostly drowned out by the ear-splitting scream that my mother made before fainting. “What do you think you’re doing?” I screamed to those who were still conscious as they scrambled away from me. My father dragged his wife with him as he scurried away, while Shining took position between them and I. He bore a neutral expression, the one he had practiced during his training and the years of service as a guard. The ‘duty’ expression, the one that meant business. I could still see the fear in his eyes, though. “How dare you?” I asked, my ears splaying back. “How dare you act like I’m dead? How could you of all ponies believe those lies? Who told you I was dead?” “Stand back, who- whatever you are!” Shining barked at me when I took a step forward. He even went so far as to charge magic into his horn. The seconds stretched, our eyes locked and unflinching. The fireplace was reflected in his eyes, from somewhere behind me. A flash of purple was visible when he snarled at me. “How dare you take my sister’s identity, monster? Don’t you have any respect for the dead? “I’m not dead!” I screamed, the cry loud enough to reverberate faintly in the room. I lowered my tone to barely more than a whisper. “Who told you I was dead?” I asked once more. “No one! I... I did. My eyes…” His face fell a bit, a crease forming on his brow as he looked down at the ground with sorrow. “My eyes told me she was dead when I found her in the ruins of that Canterlot University lab. My hooves told me she was… dead when I picked up her cold, limp body. My heart told me she was gone when we put her in her tomb!” Tears were streaming down his face when he looked back up at me. “So whatever you are, you are not my sister! Twilight is dead!” Never in my life had I seen my brother cry. Not those pitiful, pathetic tears at least. Never in all these years had I heard his voice so… broken and defeated. My brother had never acted that way. My real brother. “Oh,” I said, “I see. They got to my family already. Of course.” I took a step forward. Shining Armor immediately raised a shield to block my path. Cadance was charging up her own horn, though she did not seem to know what she even planned to do with that magic. My mother was still splayed unconscious across the legs of my father, the latter pressed against the wall and staring at me while both shaking his head and clutching it. Impostors. Filthy lookalikes. “My family”, I began, “my real family, I mean, would never betray me like this.” I took another step. “My family would never have agreed to participate in this… disgusting charade,” I pressed my nose to the shield and locked eyes with my so-called brother. “So where are they?” “W-what? You…” His eyes narrowed. “You come in here, pretending to be my dead sister, while we’re mourning her, and you’re actually implying we are fakes?” “Where. Is. My. Family.” “We’re right here you deranged monster!” I never knew pure anger could facilitate spellcasting so much. I barely felt the slip between dimensions when I teleported through his shield. And despite earlier worries about my reserves, I almost didn’t even register the drain when I emptied half of my magic into a pure discharge of ambient mana. Fun thing about unicorns –or alicorns, for that matter- : we can actually sense the general level of ambient magic. Variations in that level are fairly easy to acclimate to, but in the case of say, a top-tier magic user suddenly flooding a room with more magic at once than most unicorns use in a whole year, the effect is roughly similar to a punch right in the horn. I didn’t give ‘Shining’ any time to recover before delivering an actual punch to his horn, bringing him to his knees with a cry. To be honest, at that point I had stopped thinking about my own actions. I just wanted those impostors to suffer. Having them tell me where they kept my real family would be a nice bonus of course, but the punishment came first. I tackled him, throwing us both to the ground where I landed on top of him and began hammering at his face and neck with my hooves. “Where! Family! Who! How! Why! Are! You! D-this! AAAH!” Words stumbled out of my mouth with every strike, each one a part of a sentence that my anger couldn’t even let me finish or follow coherently. I could not tell for how long I kept this up. The anger, and no doubt a fair bit of adrenaline, dulled my sense to almost everything; even the blows he gave me in retaliation felt like gentle taps. I might have continued this for a while, the fury in my mind fueling my violence to the point where I didn’t even feel myself tiring. Aside from my indignant, disjointed shouts, I wasn’t nearly out of breath as much as I would have expected from such a physical activity. I could have done this all night. And I probably would have, were it not for a sudden shout of “Leave him alone!” immediately followed by a heavy object striking my head with a deafening crash. My head was jerked to the side and a thousand porcelain pieces bloomed in my vision, surging away in the direction I found myself looking at. A deep, orange clay, almost red, one side of which held a layer of shining paint. Light blue with lavender flower motifs. My mother always loved the contrast between the light, gentle outside shell and the deep, vibrant tones of the interior. As the pieces settled on the ground, I slowly turned my head back towards the obvious thrower. The room was deathly silent, save for the quiet twinkling of the few still-spinning pieces. I didn’t have to raise my voice to make my seething fury known as I spoke to ‘Cadance’. “That… was my mother’s favorite vase, you BITCH!” I took a single step towards her. *ftlp* The room, despite already being in a state one might consider ‘frozen’, grew even more so. ‘Petrified’ would be an adequate descriptor. I slowly looked down, trying to find the strange purple object I had felt slipping through my mane and seen from the corner of my eye. My gaze traveled down, searching among the red-and-blue debris of the vase until I spotted it. An ear. A severed ear, matching the color of my coat, lying on the ground. Bloodless cuts could be seen over most of its surface, although none were as horrifying as the jagged rip where it should have been attached to somepony’s head. ~~My ear.~~ NoNoNoNoImpossibleThatCouldn’tBe~~myseveredear~~PreposterousWhoCouldEverBelieveThatNoNONo~~whywasn’titbleedingit~~should~~havebeenbleeding~~IfItWasRealWhichItCouldn’tBeObviouslyBecauseThatWasImpossibleEmpiricallyImpossible~~butIrecognizeditasmyowndidn’tI~~NoNoNoNoNoThatWasALieAnIllusion~~Ididn’tevenfeelitgetcutoff~~BecauseTheIllusionWasAHackjobFromAnAmateurFakeFakeFakeFakeBadIllusionFakeEarHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaNotCredibleForAnInstantIWasAliveAndLivingPoniesFeelPainAndLosingAnEarIsPainfulAndIHadn’tFeltAnythingAndErgo~~Iwasdead~~IHadBeenTargetedByAnIllusionOrSomethingAndTheRoomWasSpinningAndIHadToGetOutOfHereBeforeI~~acceptedthetruth~~FellUnderTheInfluenceOfEvenWorseLiesLiesLiesLiesLiesGetMeOutOfHereOutOfThisNightmareOutOutOut The window exploded away from me as I plunged through it while simultaneously shooting a beam of magic forward. The instant my hooves touched the ground outside I was already pushing upwards, immediately jumping while my wings pushed down. My take-off was worthy of Rainbow Dash yet it wasn’t nearly fast enough; I also teleported fifty feet straight up to get as far as possible from the sever- To get a clearer view of the castle. They had so much more power than I could have guessed. They had such reach, such dedication, that they could abduct and replace my entire close family, two members of which were either highly trained or extremely well-defended. This conspiracy ran deeper than I would have imagined, and much deeper than I would have liked. Someone very powerful was behind this, someone with reach, resources and contacts. Someone whose assets either allowed them to take the very throne of Equestria, or had been acquired by usurping the position some time ago. Yes. Definitely. The only logical explanation. Yes. And even if neither she nor her sister were the masterminds, they were beginning to look increasingly like my last hope. The castle grew closer, its white walls and countless gardens forming a patchwork of blues and blacks punctuated by twinkling pools of light where torches or enchanted lanterns stood to brighten key points along the paths. The windows either reflecting the moonlight or shining from a light within. It was time to pay the princess a visit. Author's Note ... 3/5 Seek/TruthIn hindsight, I should have expected this. The net was quite sturdy, and also quite apt at restricting my movements. It was sobering to think that plummeting from the sky while being chased by a dozen guards was the least infuriating thing to happen to me that night. Well, they tried to chase me, probably something in the procedure of capturing flying intruders mentioning the fact that they also had to catch said intruders before they plummeted to their deaths. I needed no such thing. Thus, I was keeping them at bay by casually firing beams of magic at anyone who got too close. I had my own way of landing safely, a clever little ruse that would save me from both the net and the fall. My horn glowing with magic, I fixed my gaze towards the ground; I had to time this just right. Just before hitting the hard marble surface of the courtyard, I unleashed the magic held in my horn, shaping it into a teleportation spell. The destination: my exact actual position, albeit without my current momentum. This resulted in a bright flash of light that made me reappear a few inches off the ground, my hooves soon touching down on the remains of the net that I had shredded by teleporting into it while it passed through me in the split-second where I was not there. Amazing, really. I’d need a few hours to explain the minutiae properly, and this isn’t about that. I spread my wings, making a show of dusting them off in front of the astonished guards. About half of them landed between me and the castle door, and the stallion in the middle of the formation barked the expected questions at me. “Who are you and what business do you have here?” “I am Twilight Sparkle, and I need to talk to the princess. It’s important.” That look. There it was again. That look of confusion mixed with terror that my name seemed to cause constantly now for some reason. I could already tell he was about to make me even more angry. “Twilight Sparkle is dead! Who are you real-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence. Understandably so, given I had grabbed his whole head in a telekinetic field and slammed it into the slab of white marble with enough force to send at least one tooth flying. “WRONG ANSWER!” I yelled. The rest of the guards braced themselves when I took a step forward, all of them tensing up in anticipation of however they were going to try to stop me. They wanted the hard way? I could certainly provide; I was no stranger to violence that night. …I suppose I should have been concerned by that. I didn’t give it much thought at the time. The guards moved in perfect clockwork coordination, surrounding me in a single second. The one I had slammed into the ground was being helped up, his pained moans immediately drowned out by a bellowing shout from his nearest high-ranking colleague. “Stand down! This is your final warning, stop now or we’ll arrest you!” I took a step forward, intending to deliver some deadpan rebuttal along the lines of an explanation of how they had no such authority. They didn’t seem to be intent on taking chances, which is… to be expected of the royal guard. They all jumped as soon as I moved, springing into action as blindingly fast as a mouse trap. In a second they were on me, pinning my hooves to my sides; I teleported away, although barely half the distance I had anticipated. I had very little need for my eyes to confirm what I understood immediately; judging by their glowing horns, the unicorns of the guard were trying to suppress my ability to use magic. They probably weren’t expecting to go up against someone of my power, and certainly not while I was being fueled by such righteous indignation as I was feeling at the moment. I repeated my earlier unicorn incapacitation trick, only this time was a bit more focused in order to avoid uselessly dispersing my energy in the wide open outside area. The effect was immediate, making the unicorns drop to their knees with a cry and one or two nosebleeds. They’d be dazed for a few seconds. Seconds I apparently didn’t have, I realized, as I found myself figuratively buried under the pegasi and earth ponies whom I had momentarily forgotten. If brute force was what they wanted, I’d give them brute force. I grabbed my own body in my magic and spun myself into a roll, throwing the guards on my back away and bowling over the rest. I shot a few more beams of magic at random as soon as I got back to my hooves, causing the horde of guards to back away to a safer distance. We stood still. Most of the pegasi, bat-winged or otherwise, were panting slightly while the unicorns shook their heads to clear the dizziness I had caused. The earth ponies seemed in perfect condition, their manes barely ruffled and their breathing still regular. All of them, however, bore angry glares and displeased frowns. Some had even readied their spears, with the clear intent to actually use the weapons if this dragged on for too long. I didn’t intend for this to take much longer. There wouldn’t be a round two, in fact. Only six guards stood between me and the door, two equine layers thick bristling with weapons and armor. Once I was past that, it was only a matter of outrunning the rest and keeping them at bay. I lit my horn, projecting a thin but sturdy shield around my front while applying a telekinetic push forward to my whole self. I charged. The guards’ surprise was immediately apparent, although their training let them react instantly to brace themselves for the impact. I, for my part, barely felt anything when my tackle sent four of them flying and toppled the fifth. I was ready to resume my push with another burst of magic when an unfamiliar tug in my left side made me actually notice the last guard that had stood in my way. It was the same pegasus I had slammed head-first into the ground, his bloodied mouth turned into a horrified grimace. I followed his gaze down, looking at his hooves and the spear they clutched. A spear whose shaft had buried itself into my ribcage. My left wing extended, soon feeling the rest of the spear poking out of my hide on the other side of my body. Everyone present was silent. Why hadn’t I felt it? Why was there no blood? Why did I feel just as fine as I did five seconds prior while I should have been at the very least blinded by pain? Why hadn’t this spear killed me? Lies. Lies, lies lies lies and more lies. Illusions, fake spears, actors, mind-affecting spells or some such. There was just no other way. The pegasus had let go of the spear and was slowly backing away, his courage seemingly wilting under my hateful glare. “Stop,” I whispered, using my telekinesis to rip the spear in half and sending the pieces flying out of my body at a speed that made them bounce off the ground. The blunt end exploded into a shower of shards when it met a wall, while the head disappeared into the lightless depths of the window it shattered. “Lying,” I continued out loud, grabbing the pegasus’ head once more before he could flee. “TO ME!” A wave of magic pulsed outward in all directions, repelling the squadron of guards who had begun charging at me when I grappled their compatriot. I hadn’t let him go yet, though. My telekinesis extended to his entire front half before I slammed him again into the ground, this time hard enough to crack the stone. I wasn’t done. His body still pressed in the crater, I pushed him away to carve a bloodied furrow into the solid white marble tiling. The whole process took less than a second, at the end of which I was surprised to hear his anguished wails of pain; I would never have expected anyone to survive that. Through the cloud of dust I saw a twisted, bent leg flailing about, the fractured appendage twitching from the searing pain of its multiple fractures. I turned away from the grotesque spectacle and focused instead on the now unobstructed doorway, while the guards did their best to rise again from where I had scattered them. No sooner had I taken a single step forward did the whistling of a great number of wings come from above. Both the fact that I had obviously caused enough of a ruckus to alert reinforcements and the idea that I would have been a fool to expect to catch a break that night meant I was not surprised in the slightest when two dozen more guards landed between me and the doorway. What did somewhat startle me was the subsequent landing of none other than Princess Luna herself. She seemed upset. “What is the meaning of this?” she called out, eyeing me with no small amount of disdain and surprise. “Who dares intrude upon the royal castle?” With a neutral tone, deciding that the very least effort to get my point across was to at least try to be polite to the princess –or her doppelganger-, I spoke up. “Princess. I have b-“ “How dare you!” she immediately spat, the volume of her voice rising by a few decibels. “How dare you foul creature wear the skin of my sister’s late and beloved student? How dare you steal her voice?” She spread her wings while dark clouds suddenly gathered above, crackling with lightning. “Be gone, vile monster! I, Princess Luna, champion of the night, compel you! Surrender now before I smite you where you stand!” Her eyes were glowing white with power, her face lit up by the ominous flashes of lightning in the sky. The only reason her overwrought attempts to intimidate me failed to make me laugh was the fact that they made me angry more than anything else. How dare I trespass in the castle? How dare she try to stop me! I didn’t even care that she was a princess, the real one or otherwise; this was a pissing contest she could not afford. After all I’d been through that night, if I had to take down another alicorn in order to get what I wanted then by the stars I’d do it! I stepped forward, magic charging up my horn. Luna’s guards fanned out, helping the already-present ones to surround me again. The princess stepped forward as well, walking past her guards and into the circle. “I’ve told you,” I said, “I’ve told everyone, constantly, ALL NIGHT, that I’m not dead! I’m Twilight, and if you can’t even tell that I’m me, I’m real, and I’m standing right in front of your stupid face, you’re either not the real Luna, a gullible fool, or too much of a drooling moron to be worth my damn time! Let. Me. Pass.” She went from furious to livid while I spoke, the clouds above sinking lower and crackling with more intensity with every word I said. She was no doubt about to put into words just how much I had offended her, or just as likely ready to attack without a reply, when a thundering voice echoed from deep within the castle. “Luna! Let her pass!” The princess’ eyes grew wider while she worked her jaw without a sound for about half a second, before she managed to answer her sister with the cacophonous tone of the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Have you gone irrevocably mad!? I will not let this abomination set even a single hoof in our castle!” The echoes had yet to die when Celestia’s voice returned, rumbling through the halls. “I know what I’m doing. Luna, please!” The dark princess studied me for a moment, eyes narrowed and still very much furious. Come on, I silently dared her with nothing but my eyes, keep objecting. See if I care about kicking your flank after having you call me a monster and an abomination. The clouds suddenly quieted, dispersing without a sound as the princess rose back to her full height. “Formation!” she simply called to the assembled guards, “I want the physicians awoken and brought to this stallion immediately! Now you,” she said, turning back to look me in the eyes, “a single wrong move and I promise your ashes will be too fine to touch the ground.” She then turned and began marching back inside the castle, the guards who could still do so forming a perimeter around me and following her. The walk through the castle was spent in silence, a respite from the screaming and rage of the past few hours. They treated me like some dangerous animal, some deranged psychopath to be feared; I saw the worried glances the guards sneaked my way. I saw some purple glint reflected in their eyes, widened despite their training. That same look again. The one Shining’s impostor had given me. The one Applejack and Big Mac, and my own f… fake family had given me. Why were they looking at me like that? Why was everyone looking at me like that? Every exchange of eye contact made me a little bit angrier, yet still I kept calm; I was about to get my answers. I was about to get to the bottom of this: cooperative or not, meeting with the princess would no doubt give me the clues I needed to complete this riddle. Either she knew and would tell me, or she didn’t and would help me. I was glad to finally reach the throne room; I wouldn’t have to endure the stares or the hostility anymore. This whole waste of my time with the guard was hopefully over at last. Princess Luna herself slammed the doors open, walking inside and up to her sister without even looking back. The guards around me fanned out, giving me a clear view of Princess Celestia. She was in the middle of a conversation with Discord, and all I could hear of it before they both turned to look at us entering the room was a strange plea from the princess. “Please, I’ll owe you one, but please don't just take them without warning.” When Discord’s eyes fell on me, his expression changed from one of mild disinterest to something more akin to surprised curiosity. He looked at me for a second or so, raising a single claw as if about to say something before changing his mind to say something else. “Oh,” he said to no one in particular, “well that’s interesting.” He tilted his head towards Celestia, keeping his eyes on me. “I’ll be right back.” He then ate his tail, slurping it like an oversized noodle until he apparently swallowed himself out of existence. At which point I had the Princess’ full attention. She looked… tired. Her mane was frazzled and unkempt as if she had just gotten up from bed without a single second of brushing. Her usual regalia was nowhere to be seen, and she just sat in her throne, a small scroll laid open at her hooves. She looked at me, the moonlit stained-glass windows painting sparkles of blue, red and purple in her eyes. “Twilight,” she said, never taking her eyes off of me, even as Luna whispered something in her ear before sitting next to her. The sun princess’ expression was as unreadable as ever, and she simply asked, “How are you doing?” Yes! Finally someone recognized me for who I was! I dared smile at last; there was some much-awaited hope. “I’m fine, Princess! I’m fine, really, despite everyone’s best efforts to convince me I’m dead. I’ll admit it’s an impressive prank, but I think it’s high time it ended now. I’m obviously alive.” “I see,” was the princess’ only response. “So you say everyone you know has banded together tonight to convince you that you are dead, which is a blatant lie, correct?” I wasn’t sure what she was getting at, or why we were just talking about it, but I still found myself unable to resist answering. Her tone, her way of asking, it felt like the old days. We were once more student and teacher somehow. “Yes,” I said. “And what have you done to discover the truth?” “I… Uh, well, I came here to see you, I guess.” Her face barely changed, only a microscopic rise of her eyebrow indicating whatever emotion she was concealing. “Haven’t you tried anything with your magic, other than..." a quick glance at the scroll at her hooves, "scaring and hurting your friends?” I looked down, struggling to find my words. She always had the knack for drilling me to the core with her razor-sharp questions. Had I done anything good with my magic that night? No. Nothing but violence and anger, I realized, as the events of the night replayed in my head. But they were all asking for it, weren’t they? They had been lying, conspiring against my very sanity! I wasn't wrong, was I? I opened my mouth to justify myself, but she had already begun speaking again. “I’m very disappointed by your actions tonight, Twilight. In your defense, I suppose it was possible to forget about this in your situation.” Her horn lit up as she spoke, and a sudden flash of magic drew a large, ornate circle on the floor between us. “It is a very advanced spell, after all,” she continued, “one that few can actually cast. I distinctly remember once teaching you the basics and theories, though. I thought you would remember it when you needed it most.” Even through all my lingering anger, her words managed to cut into me. It was rare for her to sound so terribly disappointed in me, a tone in her voice that had always terrified me. I couldn’t bear to look at her when she spoke to me that way, it was paralyzing. My eyes drifted to the floor, and the black circle it now bore. I easily recognized it. It was a pretty distinctive design, after all. A circle of truth, wherein no lie or illusion could exist. That was… exactly what I needed all along! She was right! How could I have forgotten about this? How could I have been so stupid? So… so brutish and unthinking? How could I have done all these things to these ponies? I slunk even lower, my growing shame weighing on my back as Princess Celestia kept lecturing me on the obvious mechanics of the circle, my guilt swelling with every word. Yes, this line was the backbone of the entire enchantment; yes, the over-arching triangle served to better focus the energies; yes, this rune was invaluable to the proper functioning of the circle. Or it would have been if it had been placed correctly. Wait. My eyes narrowed as I inspected the circle more closely. There were several mistakes in the design. Several crucial flaws that should have been obvious to anyone who actually knew how to cast that spell. A strange feeling of mixed hope and fury surged within me. Another impostor. That was not the real princess. The real princess would not have made these amateur mistakes in such a complex spell. She would not have been so harsh to me, like she was doing now with her cold, calculating eyes still fixated on me. I could have laughed. The conspiracy ran deeper than I could ever have feared, and this idiot on the throne had just given me the way to get to the bottom of it on a silver platter. “You fake imbecile,” I suddenly interrupted her. She cocked that eyebrow again, and I saw her swallowing nervously, despite her best efforts to hide it. “This isn’t a circle of truth. This waste of floor space couldn’t guess the answer of an elementary school riddle if the correct answer was already circled!” I took my eyes off of her to glance at the circle in front of me, walking up into it as I corrected the many errors of the design. “This is wrong, this is even worse, this is downright absurd, and this… I can’t even believe you think the real princess would be stupid enough to make that mistake!” My horn flashed repeatedly, magically altering the black lines on the floor. I could feel the energy shifting around me, the circle beginning to work properly under my guidance. I stood in the center of the circle, a triumphant smile stretching across my face. I spun around, taking in the completed design and closing my eyes to mentally examine it one last time. “Now, you dumb, lying waste of breath,” I said, still reviewing my corrections, “you’re going to tell me the truth, because it’s literally the only thing I can hear in here.” I perceived a faint, temporary moment of brightness on the other side of my eyelids, and decided it was about time I opened my eyes again. The circle was now perfect anyway, no need to review it any more. “Who are you really and who put you up to thi…” Words failed me. The very concept of speech seemed like a figment of my imagination for a moment. I distantly heard Celestia’s voice saying something that, after what felt like ages, I managed to process as the words “I’m so, so sorry, Twilight.” “No.” In front of me now stood a large, ornate mirror, no doubt just freshly summoned by the princess. But what it told me was so wrong, so terrifying. “No.” It had to be another lie. The circle wasn’t actually working. Surely something was wrong, something other than what the mirror was trying to convince me of! “No. It can’t be. I-I… I, no.” This was a lie. Another illusion. The circle was a dud. It didn’t work. It didn’t work and I could prove it. The sky is green “The sky is g… The sky is g-blue.” I have five legs “I have f-fff-four legs.” I heard a faint poof, like a muted explosion. I saw, in the periphery of my vision, what looked like a cloud of smoke somewhere to my right. I heard a chorus of gasps, and some familiar voices saying things I couldn’t even begin to assimilate. The world didn’t exist anymore. The dozens of faces all around me, staring at me, were invisible. The sounds reached my ears but didn’t resonate. There was only myself, the circle and the mirror. My name is Shining Armor “My name is shhhh-hh-hhTwilight Sparkle.” I am alive “I am a… al… allllld-“ I am alive “I am all-llll-deh-“ I am alive! “I. Am. A-ddd-“ Fine! You want to lie, mirror? I’ll show you lies! I am dead! “I am dead!” I laughed, never taking my eyes off of the mirror. I didn’t know why. I didn’t feel like laughing. I felt the joke had gone on long enough. “I,” I chuckled, “I am… I am…” My reflection’s face fell, the mirth melting away from the pale cheeks. The single remaining ear folded down. A dark, reddish gash was the only thing to be seen where the other ear should have been. The dozens of bloodless cuts radiating from the right side of my face shifted as my smile went limp. The moonlight shone on my coat, highlighting the dark patches of my skin; the necrotic bruises showing through the color of my hair. The dull buzz I could hear over my own thoughts had no beat, no tempo, nothing to do with a beating heart. And my eyes. My dull, glassy, lifeless eyes, sat nearly unmoving in their sunken sockets, my vision seemingly guided by the two glowing dots of purple light within. The monster in front of me opened its mouth, and we whispered “I’m… dead?” in perfect unison. I only realized I was screaming when a set of strong, white, and incredibly warm hooves wrapped around me; I didn’t stop, not even when a gigantic white wing placed itself between the mirror and I. If I stopped screaming I’d have to face the horrible reality. If I stopped screaming I wouldn’t wake up from this nightmare. If I stopped screaming it meant I had accepted this. If I stopped screaming, I was dead. So I kept screaming. Even though the princess was whispering soothing words to calm me down, even when I felt her tears dripping on my head, even while she held me tightly despite my struggle to flee. I kept screaming and trashing in the princess’ embrace. “Shhh, Twilight, It’s going to be okay. Shhhh.” I don’t know how long I screamed. Author's Note There once was a thread in the 'Dark' group of this very website, pondering the implications and hypothetical scenarios of an immortal alicorn getting buried alive. There once was a tweet by Meghan McCarthy saying that "Twilight will not outlive her friends", in response to the concerns about twilight's ascension making her immortal and cursed to lose all her friends to old age one by one. These two met in my head, and when a thread loves a tweet very much, blah blah birds and bees and all that stuff. This story was the result. 4/5 Live/DeathI slowly stand out of the black liquid, letting it drip gently down from my body. I guess it was time to let go. Even the best flesh preservation spells can only do so much against two years of wear and tear. I shake a bit to get rid of most of the remaining droplets and carefully step out of the caustic bath in which I spent the past three hours scrubbing the dead flesh from my bones. The scraping tools float gently on the surface of the black, foaming liquid, and I can even spot the hook I had to use to get my brain out. Apparently the explosion that killed me did so by discharging massive bolts of electricity in the room, one of which decided to pass right through my skull. I can now tell from experience that a two-year old cooked brain pickled in preservation magic is annoyingly difficult to work with. I ponder for a moment what to do with this rotting corpse stew. The smell must be gut-wrenching for anyone with a nose. After a while, I decide that the easiest solution is to simply teleport the whole mess into the nearest volcano. No water pollution or ruined ground, and the smell won’t bother anyone for more than a few seconds. It's far from a proper burial, but I'm far from properly dead anyway, am I? Goodbye, organs. I enjoyed our time together. I then turn the brand-new faucet on, just to rinse myself. Can’t be too careful about the risk of eroding my bones with too long an exposure to acid. They’re not ready yet. … Fluttershy isn’t ready either. She still hasn’t been able to work up the courage to see me in person again. We just exchange letters for now. It’s… okay. My thoughts drift to the rest of my friends while I slosh around in the water to make sure I’m rinsed properly. Most of them take some time out of their week to visit me in the newly-renovated Everfree castle. Princess Celestia formally gave it to me, saying it was to give me time and space to adjust to my new… existence. I know it’s mostly to keep me away from the normal populace so they don’t freak out as much, but it’s okay. I can’t blame them. Someone recently told me I was starting to smell really bad. Besides, with the riots caused by the announcement of my… condition, I agree that it’s best to keep me far from civilization. The only ponies I ever see nowadays are the really brave ones who know what they’re getting into by walking into the Everfree. Most of my friends included. Rarity always brings something to liven up the place, or to work a bit on the existing decorations. Even the older sections of the castle look better with each passing month. I don’t really see the point, but if it gives her a motive to visit me every so often, I’m not against it. Rainbow either spends our times together in my personal, greatly-improved library; or up above the castle, trying to wrestle the wild weather of the forest. Or just bringing me along on casual flights. We sometimes go to fly all the way over Ponyville. ...I honestly prefer to stay here. I need to remember to check if I can still fly with just these puny little bones I have for wings now. Pinkie… just doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t eat anymore. She keeps bringing cakes and candy. She says maybe if I considered hiring guards and staff I could give it to them. I feel it’s not entirely necessary; the wildlife tends to steer clear of the castle for some reason. Besides, I don’t think we need to worry about any attempts on my life. I sometimes get the feeling Applejack doesn’t visit as often as she could. But she’s probably just really busy. Standing up again, I let the water drain and begin drying myself with a towel. My checklist is still where I left it, near the door. Up next is… the few hours in the kiln to make sure my bones are as desiccated as possible. Fair enough. It’ll give me some more time to think, even more than usual. I move to the hallway, my bones making a new, clattering sound on the stone floor. I never knew how much muffled hooves were compared to bare bones. You learn something new every day, I suppose. Even in death. The dark corridors are silent as I make my way downstairs to the ancient blacksmith’s workshop. No one lives here. Literally. Visits from my friends and Spike are the most activity this castle sees, although Spike says he wants to move in with me again. While it would certainly give the castle some more life, I’m not sure this is a good place for him. A mass of old furniture grabs my attention as I walk by, a single object among the others in particular. I pause, then levitate the tall object out and away from the pile. Under an old, mold-stained blanket rests a mirror. I haven’t looked at my reflection since that night I woke up, two years ago. I shake my head at the sudden rush of memories. Of course, leave it to me to invent a new, never-before-seen form of necromancy while I’m too dead to remember how I did it. Despite my best efforts, I’m still far from figuring out a way to undo this. Turns out what I remember of the time I spent fully dead has absolutely nothing to do with what I actually did to lock myself away from the afterlife. Knowing that would certainly be useful. I pull the cloth away from the mirror. In front of me now stands the horrific sight of an alicorn’s skeleton, scrubbed clean of its flesh. Two dots of purple, necromantic light shine in the black, empty eye sockets. I’m not as terrified as I expected. It merely reminds me of the old anatomy models in school. I open and close my jaw a few times, my teeth clacking together rhythmically. That is a slightly more unnerving sight, but it quickly starts looking like some theater prop in action. “Alas, poor Twilight! I knew her well!” My chuckle echoes down the halls, strangely amplified and distorted by the ventriloquism spell I had to invent just to be able to speak when my vocal cords snapped from too much use and the incapacity to heal. That had been a ‘fun’, mute week. I concentrate a little, creating a small orb of light with my magic. Moving it somewhere between the mirror and my face, I notice that the light seems incapable of piercing the shroud of pitch-black darkness inside my eye sockets. That’s strange and somewhat creepy, but mostly disappointing; I would have liked to observe the back of my eyeholes. I draw a leg closer, noticing for the first time the minuscule tendrils of magic flowing within the joints. Huh. Is that how my bones are bound together? Is that how I can still move? No matter, those are questions for another day. I turn away from the mirror, making a mental note to move it somewhere I frequent more often some time later. For now, it’s time to go lounge in an oven for twelve to twenty hours. After that will be the three-day soak in the special resin formula I concocted with help from Zecora, and then a few more days in the kiln to make sure the resin can set and harden properly. And then my bones will be nearly indestructible. Just because I don’t enjoy my undeath doesn’t mean I should be careless with it; who knows how long I’ll be stuck like this, and I’d rather spend that time in a still-somewhat-functioning shell. No sense in vaporizing what I have left when I have no clue whether or not it ends me or just traps me in an even worse existence. I'm not ready to risk that just yet. Still, days upon days of just sitting in place… it’s going to be a long, long week. Oh well. I do have all the time in the world now, don’t I? Author's Note This idea has been sitting half-in my head, half-written for almost a year now. I'm glad to have finally let it out. I hope you've enjoyed reading this morbid little tale. 5/5 And no, she doesn't have a phylactery. She. Does. Not.
Rise/AwakeEverything was so fuzzy. All around me were thousands of strange blobs of indistinct color, mixing and weaving and colliding every which way, all so bright yet at the same time seeming to be plunged in inscrutable darkness. It was intensely weird. That experiment was a total failure. I had done all the calculations correctly, though. At least, I thought I did. I mean, I had triple-checked absolutely everything. It shouldn’t have blown up in my face, …again. I’d have to review my notes a few dozen times more, now. Ugh, why couldn’t I get it right? This was supposed to work! I was… pretty sure it should have worked. Maybe. Hmm, the daze was still going strong. It usually faded after a few minutes, but this time it seemed to have decided to take its sweet time. How long had it been yet? I couldn’t even guess, I seemed to have lost all sense of time. I couldn’t even feel my hooves or my brand new wings. Nothing to worry about, though, It was certainly nothing more than a temporary bout of spatial unawareness. The blast had been surprisingly strong, no wonder I was confused. Oh well, I’d just have to wait it out a little longer. I kept watching the colors for a while, but something felt increasingly wrong, though I couldn’t quite place my hoof on it. I felt… tired, but still perfectly awake, like I was drifting off to sleep while within a dream. Or something of the sort. And the colors were more and more jarring. They were all familiar, and while I could probably name them all, they still felt off somehow. The fact that I couldn’t decide if they were blindingly bright or unnaturally dark was only one of my problems with them. They were also strangely impossible to identify; I could see the different hues and the spaces they occupied, but deciding which color was which seemed impossible. Was that green, yellow or red? And this one; blue, purple or orange? I couldn’t tell. I wished this daze would be over soon. It was getting upsetting, especially the sounds I could now hear. Distant wind, it seemed, but also like a whisper all around me. And some sort of weird tugging sensation. What was that? It felt similar to the sort of exhaustion I would too often get from using too much magic. But this time was different, a stronger pull. As if my magic was pouring out of me entirely. Wait. This wasn’t good. Leaking magic is never, ever good. I tried to get it under control, to stop the flow. It was extremely difficult. There seemed to be a barrier of sorts, an unusual resistance to the whole process. The more I struggled, the harder it became, as if my very efforts were draining me. After what felt like hours, I decided I needed to try another approach. I then remembered a piece of advice I had read in a book somewhere, about how struggling against quicksand only made you sink faster, or maybe it was about how panicking after a snakebite made the poison’s travel through your veins easier. Something along those lines. Maybe trying to force it just didn’t help. I thought back to my lessons with Zecora, how she had taught me forms of meditation, ways to center oneself and reach new understandings and solutions to one’s problems. I really needed to get that magic back under control; it was beginning to run out. No sense in not trying her methods, frankly. So I concentrated, on silence, on nothing. Ignored the freaky colors and weird sounds until they went away. I visualized myself, then the room around me, then the city around it, then the world and so on until I could see the whole universe in my mind, with myself in the middle. And then… plunged back into it all, with my focus unwavering and my mind set, letting myself sink to the bottom of myself in one great metaphysical dive. To let nothing stand in my way while at the same time refusing to oppose any obstacle. It helped. The colors faded, the sounds vanished, I felt my magic had stopped leaking. I began to feel a soft surface beneath my body. There was still some resistance, though. Hmm. Good thing I’m a magical genius, I thought, immediately before realizing that it was an unbelievably arrogant thing to think. A few tweaks to the energies here, some minor stabilizing bindings there, just a pinch of healing magic, and a small jolt of electricity through my nervous system to chase the numbness, and voila! I could feel myself fully grounded now, back to normal. I took a deep breath. It smelled like wet soil. I opened my eyes, absolute darkness greeted them. What? I lit up my horn, only to find myself trapped in a small, richly padded room. No, not a room. A box. A small, pony-sized box furnished with thin, soft cushions of the purest white silk, with a lid of highly-polished varnished wood. A coffin. I was in a coffin. That… that just couldn’t be right. I couldn’t be in a coffin. I couldn’t be in a coffin! Who put me there? Who did this to me? What in Equestria was going on? “Hey! Get me out of here!” I yelled, only answered by the oppressive silence. My voice was so hoarse, and my throat so dry, that I had barely recognized it as my own. I had to have been stuck in there for a while. That I had only an unknown, rapidly dwindling supply of air worried me, but not enough to stop me from hammering at the wooden ceiling while screaming for help. I had been buried alive. The lid didn’t give way under the assault of my hooves. It didn’t even shake. It was like hitting a solid brick wall. Or the underside of a metric ton of dirt. Someone had literally buried me alive. I was at an undetermined depth, underground. I screamed. For a while I just screamed, overtaken by the terror of the nightmarish scenario I had been put into. This couldn’t happen. Somepony had made a terrible mistake. Eventually I forced myself to stop, realizing I should be trying to conserve air. I had to think rationally, logically. I had a way out of this. I had to have a way out of this! I couldn’t just open the lid and step out, but I had other options; being the element of magic and one of the most knowledgeable unicorns in the land opened a lot of doors. I could do this. I could teleport out. Yes! I could just magic myself out of this tomb and out into the fresh outside air! I quickly estimated my reserves and frowned; I had just enough for a very short-range displacement. One very close teleport. I couldn’t just warp to my house, and probably not to any other familiar place, unless I was currently right under them. I could only make a few meters at most. I could’ve risked shooting straight up at maximum distance, but the prospect of finding myself falling from an undetermined height and potentially hurting myself wasn’t really appealing. While I indeed did possess wings now, I still wasn’t fully confident in my abilities, and already felt tired enough that even with adequate skill I probably would have crashed anyways. I needed to test the waters, in a way. I could try some very specific, very small teleportations from different heights above me until I found a distance that brought only air, indicating the surface. They would only reduce my possible escape range by a few centimeters each. The first try brought dirt. The second, a pebble. I was at least two meters down, it seemed. The third draw was the winner: nothing but an infinitesimal breath of fresh air was dragged into my prison. Three meters straight up. I could do this. I would be free in an instant. I concentrated for a moment, pouring about half of my remaining reserves into the spell, and soon heard the telltale zap, and smelled the slight hint of ozone of a successful teleportation. My hooves landed on the soft dirt after a second. Sweet, glorious freedom at last! The darkness of night greeted my eyes as I opened them, comparatively and refreshingly bright after the terrible penumbra of the coffin. A half moon hung in the sky as I looked around the graveyard in which I found myself. Unfamiliar in the darkness, I eventually recognized it as the Ponyville cemetery. I turned around to look at “my” grave, only to come face to face with an impressive, extravagant mausoleum. The front bore an inscription detailing my name and most prominent accomplishments, as well as the dates of my birth and “death”. The date of my death was today. That was ridiculous. Who would do this? How was this even possible? Someone had built a royal tomb for me in the span of a single day, just to bury me alive. What? Why? Had someone just made an attempt on my life? I needed to find someone, anyone. Something so big was bound to have attracted some major attention, and I wanted answers. I thought about returning to Ponyville, but I remembered that there were two paths leading from here to there; one was shorter, but the other passed close to Fluttershy’s cottage. I took the longer route. I needed to see a friend. It’s not every day you get buried alive, I would certainly call that a stressful experience. Fluttershy’s kindness would help me relax a lot. It was strangely hard to walk, as if all my muscles ached, like being sore but without the pain. I felt… heavy, somehow. I must have cramped up a bit in that confined coffin. I’d eventually walk it off. The night seemed cool, as indicated by the faint frost gathering on the blades of grass, but I felt fine. No doubt being cooped up in there without aeration raised my temperature, and I had yet to really start to cool down. I wondered how long I’d been in there. Last I recalled, it was only a few minutes past noon when I failed my experiment, and now the night seemed well on its merry way. Whoever did this must have used or prolonged my unconsciousness to get me in there. Still, I felt slightly miffed that no one had thought to try to wake me up. I’d at least expect someone to have heard the explosion and rushed to my aid. Those responsible for this must have been very quick to get to me before anypony else. And wasn’t the moon supposed to be just within its first quarter? As Fluttershy’s cottage grew ever closer in the moonlight, I began to hear a faint, muffled agitation from inside. Small animal cries and persistent scratching echoed from within. As I stepped over the bridge crossing the little stream in front of her house, I even saw a few critters climbing out of the windows and running off into the night. How strange. I thought I heard Fluttershy’s voice through the din. She seemed to be trying to calm the animals down. I came up to her door and knocked. The whole cottage went silent for a moment, before the frantic activity resumed with renewed vigor. “Fluttershy! Open up, it’s me! I need to talk to you!” Wow, my voice was hoarse. I almost sounded like Rainbow Dash. I tried to clear it by coughing while I waited. As more and more animals fled from the house through every possible nook, I heard hesitant hoofsteps approaching. “Rainbow, is that you? I don’t understand what’s going on! All my animals are scared of something.” The door clicked and started to open, letting Fluttershy’s mane fill the opening for a moment before her face slid into view. “If you don’t mind, maybe you could help me and then we… can… “ Her eyes widened as her mouth fell open, and she took a sharp, shuddering breath before retreating into the darkness of her home without another word. I held the door and gently pushed my way in. “Fluttershy? What’s wrong? Where are you?” I stepped into a small, smelly puddle. It was warm and smelled of… urine? Eww. “Fluttershy? I think one of your critters made a mess on the floor! Where are you? Someone buried me alive! Do you know anything about that?” I heard a bump somewhere in front of me. Straining my eyes, I caught a glimpse of a pony-sized lump pushing against the cupboards in Fluttershy’s kitchen. What was going on here? I got closer, lighting my horn to chase the darkness of the room. In the bright glow, among the cowering animals I could see fleeing everywhere, sat Fluttershy, her hooves frantically trying to push her further back. She stared straight at me, repeatedly gasping in obvious terror, hyperventilating for some reason. “Fluttershy? What’s wrong?” I tried to sound as reassuring as possible, so as not to scare her further. She really seemed terrified by something, though I couldn’t quite understand what. Why would she be scared of me? That made no sense. It was probably something behind me; it wouldn’t have been the first time I’d gotten in trouble by pure obliviousness. Wait, something behind me? I spun around immediately, charging what little magic had returned to me in my horn in order to be ready. Nothing. Not even a single one of my friend’s animals, just shadows in an empty house. I heard a knocking sound behind me, and felt a sudden rush of air. I looked back to see a recently-opened window above the sink, and Fluttershy gone. “Wait!” I yelled, stretching over the sink to peek through the window, seeing Fluttershy gallop away at a speed I’d never thought she could muster. “Fluttershy! What are you doing? Where are you going? Fluttershy!” She was already so far, I couldn’t hope to catch up with her, especially with how winded I still felt from being stuck in the confines of the coffin. And although I was recovering my magic, it still wasn’t nearly enough to simply teleport to her. “Fluttershy…” What had gotten into her? I dropped back to my hooves, in the total silence of the now perfectly-empty cottage. All the animals were gone too. What was going on? I decided to just try somepony else. Applejack lived nearby as well. It was a shorter trip than heading to Ponyville anyway. I closed Fluttershy’s front door and left. I hoped she was safe. I’d never seen her so scared before, I still struggled to figure out what had put her in such a state of shock. Maybe whoever tried to assassinate me threatened her or something. Now I really needed answers about whatever was going on. Hopefully Applejack would help with that. I followed the road in the silent night. Despite Fluttershy’s fear and the possibility that whatever had caused it might still be lurking around, I found the short journey far from worrisome. The calm darkness was serene, as if everything, every little creature of the night, paused their activities to let me pass unopposed. All around me was a ring of silence, an aura of tranquility. It was fairly relaxing. The fear of suffocating underground seemed so far away now. I felt good, more and more lively; my waxing magic building back up inside certainly helped in that regard. Nighttime’s scariness was overrated. I was almost skipping by the time I passed the arch allowing passage through the gates of Sweet Apple Acres. Despite the hour, a light shone from one of the windows. It was one of which opened to the dining room, near the back of the farmhouse. Deciding not to disturb the whole household by knocking on the front door, I approached the back porch. I don’t really know what I was expecting to see; maybe one or more of my friends either planning my rescue or having a simple normal moment, unaware of my abduction. Whatever normal, innocuous activities might keep a farmer up this late at night I couldn’t quite fathom, but no matter. What I didn’t expect to see when I peeked through the window screen, however, was my earth pony friend sitting alone at the table with a mug of cider in hoof and a few additional empty mugs littering the surface. Her eyes were bloodshot, and she quietly stroked her faithful dog’s head as it sat next to her in her glaring yet incomprehensible sorrow. I stared for a moment, taken aback by Applejack’s unusual attitude. The sound of growling snapped me out of it, as Winona had suddenly tensed up and began barring her teeth in my direction. She probably didn’t recognize me in the darkness of the outside, as she was usually such a well-behaved dog. I decided to just enter the home since my presence had already been announced. Besides, politeness could wait: I had a friend to try to comfort, and questions I needed answered. “Good evening, A.J. ! What’s the matter tonight?” I said as I pushed the door open and stepped inside. Two things happened at once, both of which confused me greatly: Winona began barking loudly and aggressively in my direction, and Applejack shot up in her seat, eyes wide in… fear? No, no, no, surprise; she was surprised to see me, although I could understand why: ponies just weren’t supposed to be wandering this late at night. I tried to speak over the barking to no avail; my voice just didn’t seem to project enough. After a few seconds of simply staring at me, Applejack finally silenced the dog with a yell of her own. Winona kept growling menacingly as the silence returned. My honest friend eventually rose from her seat, pushing her mug away and commanding her dog to sit. She walked closer, hesitantly, almost fearfully, and in complete silence. “Applejack, what in Equestria is going on?” My raspy voice made her recoil, her ears flattening against her skull. “I reckon I’d rightly like to know myself.” She took the last three steps separating us and slowly raised a hoof to my chest, holding it against my skin for a moment. She felt so warm in the cool night air. “…Why yes, Applejack, I actually do exist, thank you. Now would you really mind explaining why everypony I know seems to be going insane?” I then noticed how her eyes had widened and her pupils shrunk at my touch, before she quickly took her hoof away from me as if I was on fire. She opened her mouth a few times, seemingly looking for words. For a moment, all I could hear was the low growls of Winona, until a muffled gasp was heard from the stairs. Applejack’s ears perked up and, while still looking straight at me, she said: “Apple Bloom, I want you to go to your room, lock the door, and don’t come out until I say it’s okay.” She waited a few seconds, visibly tensing up with each passing one, until a shout of “NOW!” caused a frantic scramble of hoofbeats to echo away upstairs. I heard a door slam shut. My confusion and irritation reached new peaks. No one’s actions made any sense, and I had a feeling akin to being the only one in a room who had failed to get an obvious joke. “Applejack, seriously! What in the world is going on? I get foalnapped and buried alive in a giant mausoleum built overnight, and no one seems to care! Who did this to me, and why weren’t you out there either kicking their flank or rescuing me? What. Is. Going. ON?” She stared at me throughout my mild outburst, and I caught her quietly repeating “alive” under her breath. Her silence continued for a brief moment after I was done, her never-ending stare still fixated on me. “Well?” I asked, snapping her out of her apparent reverie. She opened her mouth a few times, until she finally stammered: “I… you… I… Let me get, uh, something real quick-like. I… think I have something to tell you. Don’t move.” She rushed past me and out the back door, her steps rapidly quieting in the dark outside. I stood there, under the extremely and annoyingly, unnaturally angry gaze of Winona as she kept growling at me. She kept herself crouched close to the wooden floorboards, her legs spread wide and ready for anything, though I still had no clue what had her so riled up. I heard the hoof-falls of my returning friend, but kept my eyes on her dog. She seemed poised to strike at me, and I worried that averting my gaze would only prompt her to do so. What was up with that dog? As finally Applejack walked past me once more, carrying a white box by its handle held in her mouth, I was free to look away. I recognized the white box as it thunked on the table: it was the medical kit she usually kept in the barn, the one with which she cared for the occasional sick or hurt cow, sheep or pig residing on the farm. I wondered what she needed it for, and most importantly what it had to do with me and my still-unanswered questions. She opened it briefly, just long enough to grab a single tool: a stethoscope. She hooked the ear buds on and brought the flat head to her chest for a moment, then to mine. She took a slow, deep breath as her jaw clenched and her irises shrunk just a bit further. Gulping, she then slowly placed the tool in my own ears and repeated the process. As she held the head to her heart, I could easily hear its frantic percussion as well as the wooshing rush of her every breath. A cacophonous melody of thumps and rushing wind, as if a dance was taking place on two carpets rubbing over one another, all of which happened in my very ears. I then watched as she brought the instrument away from herself and slowly, hesitantly, placed it on my chest, at the base of my neck. Silence. Complete and utter silence. The drummers were gone, the storm muted, the dancers had gone home and their music had ceased, leaving nothing but an empty room plunged in darkness. Silence. An endless, unbroken, total and smothering silence. A dead silence. “Twilight,” she whispered, swallowing hard as the smell of her alcohol-infused breath reached my nostrils. “You… You’ve been dead for a week.” Author's Note 1/5
Deny/LaughI just stared at Applejack for a moment, our bodies’ movements producing a low, ambient scratching sound in my ears as the stethoscope rubbed against the base of my neck. Her green, bloodshot eyes boring into mine, unmoving, unblinking, filled with confusion and fear. Winona’s growls quieted for the time being, apparently smothered by the sudden tension of what I had just been told by my friend. My honest, truthful friend, whom I had every reason to trust, whom I knew I should never doubt for any reason or any circumstance. My trustworthy friend who had apparently gone certifiably, terrifyingly, borderline criminally insane. “Pfah-ha-ha-ha-ha!” My laughter pierced the night, quickly escalating to a full-blown, high-pitched, rasping wheeze. I coughed again and laughed a bit more. Sweet Celestia my throat was so dry, I must’ve been a lot more thirsty than I thought. “Ha-ha-ha… heh, you got me there for a second, A.J., I never knew you were such a good actor!” She had taken a step back at my outburst, hesitating as I choked, before setting her hooves back down as I had kept speaking. She was now looking at me with a worried yet still subtly terrified expression. “Twi…” “I mean, really, ‘You’re dead’…Ha! Good one! I almost believed you for a second! Who knew the element of honesty could have such a perfect poker face!” “But Twilight…” “You can stop pretending now, I already busted you! Who put you up to this anyway? Was it Pinkie? No, wait, that sounds more like something Rainbow would come up with. Are they hiding somewhere in here? Come out guys! That was a very funny prank, but playtime’s over!” I scanned the room, waiting for Pinkie Pie or Rainbow Dash to burst out of the cupboards or something. “Twilight!” “Seriously, me, dead? Ha! I’m obviously alive, really; I’m standing right here! Zombies don’t exist, any rational mind knows that!” “Twil-“ “I’M NOT DEAD!” My deafening scream echoed through the house, but I didn’t mind as I forced air in and out of my lungs in a rapid tempo. Applejack stood further back, one hoof raised as if she was seriously considering fleeing my presence, her terror readily apparent on her face. The stethoscope faintly thumped on the ground as it fell from my ears. “I’m not dead! I’m standing right here! I’m speaking to you! I can’t be dead! I’m alive and moving and conscious, and I’m certainly not a ghost because you touched me just a second ago, and I’m not a zombie because they don’t exist, and I’m not dead because how could I be dead if I’m here and moving and thinking and speaking at this unreasonable pace even when it’s perfectly justified by my most honest friend trying to tell me a blatant lie, because she wants me to believe I’m dead when I most obviously am not. I’m. Not. Dead. I’m not dead, I’m not dead, I’M NOT DEAD!” The horror on her face slowly melted, morphing into some sort of pained sorrow as her eyes glistened with forming tears. “I don’t know what to tell you, Twi, I-“ “JUST STOP LYING TO ME! I’m not dead! Why are you doing this to me? What did I do to you? Whatever it is, I’m sure we could work it out without resorting to… whatever it is you’re trying to do here! Aren’t we friends? What kind of sick joke is this? What kind of sick bastard would do this to a friend? Did you build that giant stupid mausoleum?” “But you’re dead, I saw your body! I-“ “Stop it stop it stop it STOP THAT! I’m not dead! This isn’t funny anymore! How dare you do this to me! What is wrong with you?” I stepped forward while screaming, making her back up into a wall while Winona took her place in front of me. She was barking freely now, her fur bristling as she shielded her master from me. “And what is wrong with your stupid dog? Why can’t she shut up? Did you actually train her to bark at me like an insane mutt, barking and barking and BARKING to drive me insane? To make me snap? To harass me into insanity while you lie to me, to weaken and torture my mind while you work your horrible little lies into my head? It’s not going to work because she’s going TO SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT THE HELL UP YOU STUPID VERMIN!” As I screamed into her face, Winona grew more and more aggressive, her fur bristling ever wider and her posture lowering some more, until I saw her claws suddenly dig into the old wood of the floor. She lunged at me, jaws wide, aiming for my head or somesuch. I simply grabbed her with my telekinesis, clamping her mouth shut in the process. “Shut up.” I socked her in the face with my hoof and shook her magically before throwing her into a wall. A small yelp of pain accompanied a faint crack as she tumbled to the floor. “Shut up,” I repeated to the twitching dog, before whirling back to face Applejack. I was so angry at her, so frustrated by her stubborn refusal to face the truth. How could she lie to me, straight to my face, and say I was dead? I didn’t care that she had backed up into a corner, still pushing her hooves in an attempt to get further away from me. All part of her cruel, senseless act. She wanted me to believe that she was terrified of me, that I was something to fear; some sort of ghost or revenant or zombie. That horrible, cruel joke had gotten stale about forever ago. It was about time this charade ended. “Now, Applejack. You’re going to tell me the truth.” I slowly walked up to her as I spoke, closing the distance between us. She tried to kick at me with her hind legs: I held them to the floor with my magic. “Could a dead pony do this? Would a dead pony be talking to you and moving around? The dead don’t come back, Applejack. So, if I’m here, and a hypothetically dead me couldn’t possibly be here, what does that mean?” I was basically over her at that point, looming over her prone form in a corner of the room. She tried to punch me, but I easily caught her hoof in my magic. I pinned it to the wall, doing the same to the other one. She was struggling, eyes closed and muttering ‘no’ over and over again while shaking her head. “Come on, it’s not that hard! A-L-I-V-E. I’m alive! Repeat after me: Twilight, you are alive. Come on, say it. Tell me I’m alive. Stop lying like a jerk and tell me I’m alive. Say it to me! SAY IT! SAY I’M ALIVE YOU BASTARD! SAY IT!!!” She was openly bawling like an infant while I screamed mere inches from her face, her whole body twitching and shaking under the strain of trying to fight off my magic grasp. I decided that I wasn’t going to stand for her trying to worm her way out of telling the truth by becoming unintelligible. I knew telling the truth always made her feel better, that was something she liked to say sometimes. ‘Telling the truth takes the weight of guilt off your back,’ she would often say. So I just needed to help her out a little. Because that’s what friends do. I extended my telekinesis to grab her jaw and began making her enunciate ‘Twilight, you’re alive’ while providing the words with my own voice. She’d thank me later. “Get the heck away from my sister!” was the only warning I got before some sort of red freight train rudely shoved me through the nearest window. Well, technically, “Get the” was the warning; the rest came after the impact, just before I was momentarily deafened by the sound of an entire window pane shattering around my barrel. I landed about a second later, rolling freely in the grass. When I got up, shaking broken glass out of my mane, I could see Big Macintosh glaring at me through the window. He seemed surprised or startled for a moment, before his face settled in a grim, defiant expression. “Dontcha dare come any closer!” he warned me. He looked at me like I was some kind of monster, some sort of deranged mare. Couldn’t he see that it was Applejack who was currently clearly demented? Applejack was lying, Somepony had buried me alive, someone threatened or blackmailed Fluttershy with something so horrible that she didn’t even want to look at me or be in the same room, the freaking moon had had its phases tampered with, and everyone looked at me like I was the crazy one? This wasn’t just a prank, it was an outright conspiracy! I needed to get out of here. I needed answers. I took off, my wings pushing me straight up until the Apple farmhouse was no more than a dot on the ground. I hovered there for a moment, catching my breath. Where could I go? Who could I seek for help? This… conspiracy ran deep; they could build a mausoleum overnight, they could convince Applejack to lie, they had either done something to the moon or to Princess Luna herself. Everypony in Ponyville was no doubt already under their control, knowing I’d go for my friends first if I ever needed help. I had already fallen for it twice, with two of them, but now I was on to them. I knew better now. I needed to do something unexpected. What would Twilight Sparkle do? What did I usually turn to when I needed help? My books. Yes, first and foremost, I’d look in my books for a solution. And then what? My friends, yes, obviously. After that? Hmm, maybe the princess. Then I’d be stumped. Good. Those were all very obvious choices I’d make, choices I’d be expected to make. I just needed to avoid them all, and the web of lies would have no way of catching me. Perfect! If I could just lay low for a while and work on sorting this out, I’d have it figured out in no time. I scanned the horizon, looking for someplace safe and far away, someplace I could hide while uncovering the truth. Canterlot caught my eyes. It was risky, with the princesses so close, but my family was there. They’d never betray me like that, they’d help me for sure. At the very least, they’d help me think of a better place to hide. I also had to make sure they were safe. My wings clapped in the silent night as I suddenly thrust myself in the direction of the lonely mountain and the sparkling city hanging on its side. The numerous lights of the numerous streetlamps of the many cramped streets and alleys formed a constellation upon which I could home in, my pace increasing effortlessly as I drew ever closer. I was no longer tired or cramped, no longer sluggish and numb. I had a plan, a goal. A purpose. I’d find out what was going on and who was responsible even if it made the orange liar’s lies true in the process. ... I sighed, letting out a breath I hadn’t noticed I was holding. Poor Applejack. I would have some apologies to make once this was over. She didn’t deserve my wrath, the way I had lashed out at her and Winona. She was just a hapless victim of this conspiracy, no doubt convinced of the veracity of her claims by some dark means. She would never have said such awful nonsense if she had even the slightest doubts. She wouldn’t lie to me unless she really believed it. Which meant whoever was behind this was powerful indeed; to either corrupt or convince the element of honesty of such blatant fabrications, and so thoroughly that she’d defend them in the face of overwhelming evidence was a testament to the dedication of my foes. My eyes narrowed and I accelerated further. No matter who, why or how powerful they were, I would stop them. I wasn’t made a princess to be everypony’s fool. The bright metropolis grew closer and closer, until its innumerable dots of light became individually distinguishable and I could begin to recognize the streets themselves. Even from the air, my familiarity with the city guided me towards my destination as easily as ever before. Between the white towers blackened by the night I found my way, silently gliding towards my old home. My parents’ house. Not the optimal hiding place, certainly not the most secure haven, and probably expected of me; but still the one place I knew I could feel safe once more. My own family would never betray me; they’d accept me with open arms, tears of joy and relief for their miraculously safe daughter in their eyes, and a warm meal to help me recount the events of the day. A smile came to my lips as I braced for the landing, the thought of a reprieve from this nightmarish ordeal enough to make me a bit careless. The landing was less than stellar, forcing me into a short gallop past the front door as I struggled to stifle my momentum. I finally stopped nearly dead-center before the living room’s massive bay window, giggling lightly at my own clumsiness and the thought of what Rainbow Dash would have to say about such a landing. And then I began turning around to head back to the front door. And in doing so, my eyes traveled across the window and I looked through the glass. And my smile died. Author's Note Ha ha, silly Twilight; of course zombies don't exist! Technically you're a lich. 2/5
Rage/FakesShining Armor solemnly levitated a candle to place it on a low table near the fireplace. The small flame joined a few others standing at attention in front of a large, black-framed picture of myself, surrounded by flowers. He seemed to whisper a few words, his whole body shaken by sporadic sobs. After a couple of seconds, he backed away from the display to take a seat next to Cadance, where the two hugged. My parents were nearby, embracing each other in a perfect mirror of their son and his wife. All four were shedding tears and occasionally patting their backs for comfort. “W-wha…” I stammered. They were mourning. “Wha-What?” I snarled through gritted teeth. They were holding a funeral wake. For me. “What. What…” I lost sight of them for a moment, a blinding flash of light smothering the scene playing before my eyes. “WHAT IS THIS!?” I screamed as soon as my teleportation into the room was complete, the instinctive, barely-controlled burst of magic displacing and scattering the table and its contents into a room-wide shower of splinters. The various gasps and panicked cries caused by my explosive irruption were all mostly drowned out by the ear-splitting scream that my mother made before fainting. “What do you think you’re doing?” I screamed to those who were still conscious as they scrambled away from me. My father dragged his wife with him as he scurried away, while Shining took position between them and I. He bore a neutral expression, the one he had practiced during his training and the years of service as a guard. The ‘duty’ expression, the one that meant business. I could still see the fear in his eyes, though. “How dare you?” I asked, my ears splaying back. “How dare you act like I’m dead? How could you of all ponies believe those lies? Who told you I was dead?” “Stand back, who- whatever you are!” Shining barked at me when I took a step forward. He even went so far as to charge magic into his horn. The seconds stretched, our eyes locked and unflinching. The fireplace was reflected in his eyes, from somewhere behind me. A flash of purple was visible when he snarled at me. “How dare you take my sister’s identity, monster? Don’t you have any respect for the dead? “I’m not dead!” I screamed, the cry loud enough to reverberate faintly in the room. I lowered my tone to barely more than a whisper. “Who told you I was dead?” I asked once more. “No one! I... I did. My eyes…” His face fell a bit, a crease forming on his brow as he looked down at the ground with sorrow. “My eyes told me she was dead when I found her in the ruins of that Canterlot University lab. My hooves told me she was… dead when I picked up her cold, limp body. My heart told me she was gone when we put her in her tomb!” Tears were streaming down his face when he looked back up at me. “So whatever you are, you are not my sister! Twilight is dead!” Never in my life had I seen my brother cry. Not those pitiful, pathetic tears at least. Never in all these years had I heard his voice so… broken and defeated. My brother had never acted that way. My real brother. “Oh,” I said, “I see. They got to my family already. Of course.” I took a step forward. Shining Armor immediately raised a shield to block my path. Cadance was charging up her own horn, though she did not seem to know what she even planned to do with that magic. My mother was still splayed unconscious across the legs of my father, the latter pressed against the wall and staring at me while both shaking his head and clutching it. Impostors. Filthy lookalikes. “My family”, I began, “my real family, I mean, would never betray me like this.” I took another step. “My family would never have agreed to participate in this… disgusting charade,” I pressed my nose to the shield and locked eyes with my so-called brother. “So where are they?” “W-what? You…” His eyes narrowed. “You come in here, pretending to be my dead sister, while we’re mourning her, and you’re actually implying we are fakes?” “Where. Is. My. Family.” “We’re right here you deranged monster!” I never knew pure anger could facilitate spellcasting so much. I barely felt the slip between dimensions when I teleported through his shield. And despite earlier worries about my reserves, I almost didn’t even register the drain when I emptied half of my magic into a pure discharge of ambient mana. Fun thing about unicorns –or alicorns, for that matter- : we can actually sense the general level of ambient magic. Variations in that level are fairly easy to acclimate to, but in the case of say, a top-tier magic user suddenly flooding a room with more magic at once than most unicorns use in a whole year, the effect is roughly similar to a punch right in the horn. I didn’t give ‘Shining’ any time to recover before delivering an actual punch to his horn, bringing him to his knees with a cry. To be honest, at that point I had stopped thinking about my own actions. I just wanted those impostors to suffer. Having them tell me where they kept my real family would be a nice bonus of course, but the punishment came first. I tackled him, throwing us both to the ground where I landed on top of him and began hammering at his face and neck with my hooves. “Where! Family! Who! How! Why! Are! You! D-this! AAAH!” Words stumbled out of my mouth with every strike, each one a part of a sentence that my anger couldn’t even let me finish or follow coherently. I could not tell for how long I kept this up. The anger, and no doubt a fair bit of adrenaline, dulled my sense to almost everything; even the blows he gave me in retaliation felt like gentle taps. I might have continued this for a while, the fury in my mind fueling my violence to the point where I didn’t even feel myself tiring. Aside from my indignant, disjointed shouts, I wasn’t nearly out of breath as much as I would have expected from such a physical activity. I could have done this all night. And I probably would have, were it not for a sudden shout of “Leave him alone!” immediately followed by a heavy object striking my head with a deafening crash. My head was jerked to the side and a thousand porcelain pieces bloomed in my vision, surging away in the direction I found myself looking at. A deep, orange clay, almost red, one side of which held a layer of shining paint. Light blue with lavender flower motifs. My mother always loved the contrast between the light, gentle outside shell and the deep, vibrant tones of the interior. As the pieces settled on the ground, I slowly turned my head back towards the obvious thrower. The room was deathly silent, save for the quiet twinkling of the few still-spinning pieces. I didn’t have to raise my voice to make my seething fury known as I spoke to ‘Cadance’. “That… was my mother’s favorite vase, you BITCH!” I took a single step towards her. *ftlp* The room, despite already being in a state one might consider ‘frozen’, grew even more so. ‘Petrified’ would be an adequate descriptor. I slowly looked down, trying to find the strange purple object I had felt slipping through my mane and seen from the corner of my eye. My gaze traveled down, searching among the red-and-blue debris of the vase until I spotted it. An ear. A severed ear, matching the color of my coat, lying on the ground. Bloodless cuts could be seen over most of its surface, although none were as horrifying as the jagged rip where it should have been attached to somepony’s head. ~~My ear.~~ NoNoNoNoImpossibleThatCouldn’tBe~~myseveredear~~PreposterousWhoCouldEverBelieveThatNoNONo~~whywasn’titbleedingit~~should~~havebeenbleeding~~IfItWasRealWhichItCouldn’tBeObviouslyBecauseThatWasImpossibleEmpiricallyImpossible~~butIrecognizeditasmyowndidn’tI~~NoNoNoNoNoThatWasALieAnIllusion~~Ididn’tevenfeelitgetcutoff~~BecauseTheIllusionWasAHackjobFromAnAmateurFakeFakeFakeFakeBadIllusionFakeEarHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaHaNotCredibleForAnInstantIWasAliveAndLivingPoniesFeelPainAndLosingAnEarIsPainfulAndIHadn’tFeltAnythingAndErgo~~Iwasdead~~IHadBeenTargetedByAnIllusionOrSomethingAndTheRoomWasSpinningAndIHadToGetOutOfHereBeforeI~~acceptedthetruth~~FellUnderTheInfluenceOfEvenWorseLiesLiesLiesLiesLiesGetMeOutOfHereOutOfThisNightmareOutOutOut The window exploded away from me as I plunged through it while simultaneously shooting a beam of magic forward. The instant my hooves touched the ground outside I was already pushing upwards, immediately jumping while my wings pushed down. My take-off was worthy of Rainbow Dash yet it wasn’t nearly fast enough; I also teleported fifty feet straight up to get as far as possible from the sever- To get a clearer view of the castle. They had so much more power than I could have guessed. They had such reach, such dedication, that they could abduct and replace my entire close family, two members of which were either highly trained or extremely well-defended. This conspiracy ran deeper than I would have imagined, and much deeper than I would have liked. Someone very powerful was behind this, someone with reach, resources and contacts. Someone whose assets either allowed them to take the very throne of Equestria, or had been acquired by usurping the position some time ago. Yes. Definitely. The only logical explanation. Yes. And even if neither she nor her sister were the masterminds, they were beginning to look increasingly like my last hope. The castle grew closer, its white walls and countless gardens forming a patchwork of blues and blacks punctuated by twinkling pools of light where torches or enchanted lanterns stood to brighten key points along the paths. The windows either reflecting the moonlight or shining from a light within. It was time to pay the princess a visit. Author's Note ... 3/5
Seek/TruthIn hindsight, I should have expected this. The net was quite sturdy, and also quite apt at restricting my movements. It was sobering to think that plummeting from the sky while being chased by a dozen guards was the least infuriating thing to happen to me that night. Well, they tried to chase me, probably something in the procedure of capturing flying intruders mentioning the fact that they also had to catch said intruders before they plummeted to their deaths. I needed no such thing. Thus, I was keeping them at bay by casually firing beams of magic at anyone who got too close. I had my own way of landing safely, a clever little ruse that would save me from both the net and the fall. My horn glowing with magic, I fixed my gaze towards the ground; I had to time this just right. Just before hitting the hard marble surface of the courtyard, I unleashed the magic held in my horn, shaping it into a teleportation spell. The destination: my exact actual position, albeit without my current momentum. This resulted in a bright flash of light that made me reappear a few inches off the ground, my hooves soon touching down on the remains of the net that I had shredded by teleporting into it while it passed through me in the split-second where I was not there. Amazing, really. I’d need a few hours to explain the minutiae properly, and this isn’t about that. I spread my wings, making a show of dusting them off in front of the astonished guards. About half of them landed between me and the castle door, and the stallion in the middle of the formation barked the expected questions at me. “Who are you and what business do you have here?” “I am Twilight Sparkle, and I need to talk to the princess. It’s important.” That look. There it was again. That look of confusion mixed with terror that my name seemed to cause constantly now for some reason. I could already tell he was about to make me even more angry. “Twilight Sparkle is dead! Who are you real-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence. Understandably so, given I had grabbed his whole head in a telekinetic field and slammed it into the slab of white marble with enough force to send at least one tooth flying. “WRONG ANSWER!” I yelled. The rest of the guards braced themselves when I took a step forward, all of them tensing up in anticipation of however they were going to try to stop me. They wanted the hard way? I could certainly provide; I was no stranger to violence that night. …I suppose I should have been concerned by that. I didn’t give it much thought at the time. The guards moved in perfect clockwork coordination, surrounding me in a single second. The one I had slammed into the ground was being helped up, his pained moans immediately drowned out by a bellowing shout from his nearest high-ranking colleague. “Stand down! This is your final warning, stop now or we’ll arrest you!” I took a step forward, intending to deliver some deadpan rebuttal along the lines of an explanation of how they had no such authority. They didn’t seem to be intent on taking chances, which is… to be expected of the royal guard. They all jumped as soon as I moved, springing into action as blindingly fast as a mouse trap. In a second they were on me, pinning my hooves to my sides; I teleported away, although barely half the distance I had anticipated. I had very little need for my eyes to confirm what I understood immediately; judging by their glowing horns, the unicorns of the guard were trying to suppress my ability to use magic. They probably weren’t expecting to go up against someone of my power, and certainly not while I was being fueled by such righteous indignation as I was feeling at the moment. I repeated my earlier unicorn incapacitation trick, only this time was a bit more focused in order to avoid uselessly dispersing my energy in the wide open outside area. The effect was immediate, making the unicorns drop to their knees with a cry and one or two nosebleeds. They’d be dazed for a few seconds. Seconds I apparently didn’t have, I realized, as I found myself figuratively buried under the pegasi and earth ponies whom I had momentarily forgotten. If brute force was what they wanted, I’d give them brute force. I grabbed my own body in my magic and spun myself into a roll, throwing the guards on my back away and bowling over the rest. I shot a few more beams of magic at random as soon as I got back to my hooves, causing the horde of guards to back away to a safer distance. We stood still. Most of the pegasi, bat-winged or otherwise, were panting slightly while the unicorns shook their heads to clear the dizziness I had caused. The earth ponies seemed in perfect condition, their manes barely ruffled and their breathing still regular. All of them, however, bore angry glares and displeased frowns. Some had even readied their spears, with the clear intent to actually use the weapons if this dragged on for too long. I didn’t intend for this to take much longer. There wouldn’t be a round two, in fact. Only six guards stood between me and the door, two equine layers thick bristling with weapons and armor. Once I was past that, it was only a matter of outrunning the rest and keeping them at bay. I lit my horn, projecting a thin but sturdy shield around my front while applying a telekinetic push forward to my whole self. I charged. The guards’ surprise was immediately apparent, although their training let them react instantly to brace themselves for the impact. I, for my part, barely felt anything when my tackle sent four of them flying and toppled the fifth. I was ready to resume my push with another burst of magic when an unfamiliar tug in my left side made me actually notice the last guard that had stood in my way. It was the same pegasus I had slammed head-first into the ground, his bloodied mouth turned into a horrified grimace. I followed his gaze down, looking at his hooves and the spear they clutched. A spear whose shaft had buried itself into my ribcage. My left wing extended, soon feeling the rest of the spear poking out of my hide on the other side of my body. Everyone present was silent. Why hadn’t I felt it? Why was there no blood? Why did I feel just as fine as I did five seconds prior while I should have been at the very least blinded by pain? Why hadn’t this spear killed me? Lies. Lies, lies lies lies and more lies. Illusions, fake spears, actors, mind-affecting spells or some such. There was just no other way. The pegasus had let go of the spear and was slowly backing away, his courage seemingly wilting under my hateful glare. “Stop,” I whispered, using my telekinesis to rip the spear in half and sending the pieces flying out of my body at a speed that made them bounce off the ground. The blunt end exploded into a shower of shards when it met a wall, while the head disappeared into the lightless depths of the window it shattered. “Lying,” I continued out loud, grabbing the pegasus’ head once more before he could flee. “TO ME!” A wave of magic pulsed outward in all directions, repelling the squadron of guards who had begun charging at me when I grappled their compatriot. I hadn’t let him go yet, though. My telekinesis extended to his entire front half before I slammed him again into the ground, this time hard enough to crack the stone. I wasn’t done. His body still pressed in the crater, I pushed him away to carve a bloodied furrow into the solid white marble tiling. The whole process took less than a second, at the end of which I was surprised to hear his anguished wails of pain; I would never have expected anyone to survive that. Through the cloud of dust I saw a twisted, bent leg flailing about, the fractured appendage twitching from the searing pain of its multiple fractures. I turned away from the grotesque spectacle and focused instead on the now unobstructed doorway, while the guards did their best to rise again from where I had scattered them. No sooner had I taken a single step forward did the whistling of a great number of wings come from above. Both the fact that I had obviously caused enough of a ruckus to alert reinforcements and the idea that I would have been a fool to expect to catch a break that night meant I was not surprised in the slightest when two dozen more guards landed between me and the doorway. What did somewhat startle me was the subsequent landing of none other than Princess Luna herself. She seemed upset. “What is the meaning of this?” she called out, eyeing me with no small amount of disdain and surprise. “Who dares intrude upon the royal castle?” With a neutral tone, deciding that the very least effort to get my point across was to at least try to be polite to the princess –or her doppelganger-, I spoke up. “Princess. I have b-“ “How dare you!” she immediately spat, the volume of her voice rising by a few decibels. “How dare you foul creature wear the skin of my sister’s late and beloved student? How dare you steal her voice?” She spread her wings while dark clouds suddenly gathered above, crackling with lightning. “Be gone, vile monster! I, Princess Luna, champion of the night, compel you! Surrender now before I smite you where you stand!” Her eyes were glowing white with power, her face lit up by the ominous flashes of lightning in the sky. The only reason her overwrought attempts to intimidate me failed to make me laugh was the fact that they made me angry more than anything else. How dare I trespass in the castle? How dare she try to stop me! I didn’t even care that she was a princess, the real one or otherwise; this was a pissing contest she could not afford. After all I’d been through that night, if I had to take down another alicorn in order to get what I wanted then by the stars I’d do it! I stepped forward, magic charging up my horn. Luna’s guards fanned out, helping the already-present ones to surround me again. The princess stepped forward as well, walking past her guards and into the circle. “I’ve told you,” I said, “I’ve told everyone, constantly, ALL NIGHT, that I’m not dead! I’m Twilight, and if you can’t even tell that I’m me, I’m real, and I’m standing right in front of your stupid face, you’re either not the real Luna, a gullible fool, or too much of a drooling moron to be worth my damn time! Let. Me. Pass.” She went from furious to livid while I spoke, the clouds above sinking lower and crackling with more intensity with every word I said. She was no doubt about to put into words just how much I had offended her, or just as likely ready to attack without a reply, when a thundering voice echoed from deep within the castle. “Luna! Let her pass!” The princess’ eyes grew wider while she worked her jaw without a sound for about half a second, before she managed to answer her sister with the cacophonous tone of the Royal Canterlot Voice. “Have you gone irrevocably mad!? I will not let this abomination set even a single hoof in our castle!” The echoes had yet to die when Celestia’s voice returned, rumbling through the halls. “I know what I’m doing. Luna, please!” The dark princess studied me for a moment, eyes narrowed and still very much furious. Come on, I silently dared her with nothing but my eyes, keep objecting. See if I care about kicking your flank after having you call me a monster and an abomination. The clouds suddenly quieted, dispersing without a sound as the princess rose back to her full height. “Formation!” she simply called to the assembled guards, “I want the physicians awoken and brought to this stallion immediately! Now you,” she said, turning back to look me in the eyes, “a single wrong move and I promise your ashes will be too fine to touch the ground.” She then turned and began marching back inside the castle, the guards who could still do so forming a perimeter around me and following her. The walk through the castle was spent in silence, a respite from the screaming and rage of the past few hours. They treated me like some dangerous animal, some deranged psychopath to be feared; I saw the worried glances the guards sneaked my way. I saw some purple glint reflected in their eyes, widened despite their training. That same look again. The one Shining’s impostor had given me. The one Applejack and Big Mac, and my own f… fake family had given me. Why were they looking at me like that? Why was everyone looking at me like that? Every exchange of eye contact made me a little bit angrier, yet still I kept calm; I was about to get my answers. I was about to get to the bottom of this: cooperative or not, meeting with the princess would no doubt give me the clues I needed to complete this riddle. Either she knew and would tell me, or she didn’t and would help me. I was glad to finally reach the throne room; I wouldn’t have to endure the stares or the hostility anymore. This whole waste of my time with the guard was hopefully over at last. Princess Luna herself slammed the doors open, walking inside and up to her sister without even looking back. The guards around me fanned out, giving me a clear view of Princess Celestia. She was in the middle of a conversation with Discord, and all I could hear of it before they both turned to look at us entering the room was a strange plea from the princess. “Please, I’ll owe you one, but please don't just take them without warning.” When Discord’s eyes fell on me, his expression changed from one of mild disinterest to something more akin to surprised curiosity. He looked at me for a second or so, raising a single claw as if about to say something before changing his mind to say something else. “Oh,” he said to no one in particular, “well that’s interesting.” He tilted his head towards Celestia, keeping his eyes on me. “I’ll be right back.” He then ate his tail, slurping it like an oversized noodle until he apparently swallowed himself out of existence. At which point I had the Princess’ full attention. She looked… tired. Her mane was frazzled and unkempt as if she had just gotten up from bed without a single second of brushing. Her usual regalia was nowhere to be seen, and she just sat in her throne, a small scroll laid open at her hooves. She looked at me, the moonlit stained-glass windows painting sparkles of blue, red and purple in her eyes. “Twilight,” she said, never taking her eyes off of me, even as Luna whispered something in her ear before sitting next to her. The sun princess’ expression was as unreadable as ever, and she simply asked, “How are you doing?” Yes! Finally someone recognized me for who I was! I dared smile at last; there was some much-awaited hope. “I’m fine, Princess! I’m fine, really, despite everyone’s best efforts to convince me I’m dead. I’ll admit it’s an impressive prank, but I think it’s high time it ended now. I’m obviously alive.” “I see,” was the princess’ only response. “So you say everyone you know has banded together tonight to convince you that you are dead, which is a blatant lie, correct?” I wasn’t sure what she was getting at, or why we were just talking about it, but I still found myself unable to resist answering. Her tone, her way of asking, it felt like the old days. We were once more student and teacher somehow. “Yes,” I said. “And what have you done to discover the truth?” “I… Uh, well, I came here to see you, I guess.” Her face barely changed, only a microscopic rise of her eyebrow indicating whatever emotion she was concealing. “Haven’t you tried anything with your magic, other than..." a quick glance at the scroll at her hooves, "scaring and hurting your friends?” I looked down, struggling to find my words. She always had the knack for drilling me to the core with her razor-sharp questions. Had I done anything good with my magic that night? No. Nothing but violence and anger, I realized, as the events of the night replayed in my head. But they were all asking for it, weren’t they? They had been lying, conspiring against my very sanity! I wasn't wrong, was I? I opened my mouth to justify myself, but she had already begun speaking again. “I’m very disappointed by your actions tonight, Twilight. In your defense, I suppose it was possible to forget about this in your situation.” Her horn lit up as she spoke, and a sudden flash of magic drew a large, ornate circle on the floor between us. “It is a very advanced spell, after all,” she continued, “one that few can actually cast. I distinctly remember once teaching you the basics and theories, though. I thought you would remember it when you needed it most.” Even through all my lingering anger, her words managed to cut into me. It was rare for her to sound so terribly disappointed in me, a tone in her voice that had always terrified me. I couldn’t bear to look at her when she spoke to me that way, it was paralyzing. My eyes drifted to the floor, and the black circle it now bore. I easily recognized it. It was a pretty distinctive design, after all. A circle of truth, wherein no lie or illusion could exist. That was… exactly what I needed all along! She was right! How could I have forgotten about this? How could I have been so stupid? So… so brutish and unthinking? How could I have done all these things to these ponies? I slunk even lower, my growing shame weighing on my back as Princess Celestia kept lecturing me on the obvious mechanics of the circle, my guilt swelling with every word. Yes, this line was the backbone of the entire enchantment; yes, the over-arching triangle served to better focus the energies; yes, this rune was invaluable to the proper functioning of the circle. Or it would have been if it had been placed correctly. Wait. My eyes narrowed as I inspected the circle more closely. There were several mistakes in the design. Several crucial flaws that should have been obvious to anyone who actually knew how to cast that spell. A strange feeling of mixed hope and fury surged within me. Another impostor. That was not the real princess. The real princess would not have made these amateur mistakes in such a complex spell. She would not have been so harsh to me, like she was doing now with her cold, calculating eyes still fixated on me. I could have laughed. The conspiracy ran deeper than I could ever have feared, and this idiot on the throne had just given me the way to get to the bottom of it on a silver platter. “You fake imbecile,” I suddenly interrupted her. She cocked that eyebrow again, and I saw her swallowing nervously, despite her best efforts to hide it. “This isn’t a circle of truth. This waste of floor space couldn’t guess the answer of an elementary school riddle if the correct answer was already circled!” I took my eyes off of her to glance at the circle in front of me, walking up into it as I corrected the many errors of the design. “This is wrong, this is even worse, this is downright absurd, and this… I can’t even believe you think the real princess would be stupid enough to make that mistake!” My horn flashed repeatedly, magically altering the black lines on the floor. I could feel the energy shifting around me, the circle beginning to work properly under my guidance. I stood in the center of the circle, a triumphant smile stretching across my face. I spun around, taking in the completed design and closing my eyes to mentally examine it one last time. “Now, you dumb, lying waste of breath,” I said, still reviewing my corrections, “you’re going to tell me the truth, because it’s literally the only thing I can hear in here.” I perceived a faint, temporary moment of brightness on the other side of my eyelids, and decided it was about time I opened my eyes again. The circle was now perfect anyway, no need to review it any more. “Who are you really and who put you up to thi…” Words failed me. The very concept of speech seemed like a figment of my imagination for a moment. I distantly heard Celestia’s voice saying something that, after what felt like ages, I managed to process as the words “I’m so, so sorry, Twilight.” “No.” In front of me now stood a large, ornate mirror, no doubt just freshly summoned by the princess. But what it told me was so wrong, so terrifying. “No.” It had to be another lie. The circle wasn’t actually working. Surely something was wrong, something other than what the mirror was trying to convince me of! “No. It can’t be. I-I… I, no.” This was a lie. Another illusion. The circle was a dud. It didn’t work. It didn’t work and I could prove it. The sky is green “The sky is g… The sky is g-blue.” I have five legs “I have f-fff-four legs.” I heard a faint poof, like a muted explosion. I saw, in the periphery of my vision, what looked like a cloud of smoke somewhere to my right. I heard a chorus of gasps, and some familiar voices saying things I couldn’t even begin to assimilate. The world didn’t exist anymore. The dozens of faces all around me, staring at me, were invisible. The sounds reached my ears but didn’t resonate. There was only myself, the circle and the mirror. My name is Shining Armor “My name is shhhh-hh-hhTwilight Sparkle.” I am alive “I am a… al… allllld-“ I am alive “I am all-llll-deh-“ I am alive! “I. Am. A-ddd-“ Fine! You want to lie, mirror? I’ll show you lies! I am dead! “I am dead!” I laughed, never taking my eyes off of the mirror. I didn’t know why. I didn’t feel like laughing. I felt the joke had gone on long enough. “I,” I chuckled, “I am… I am…” My reflection’s face fell, the mirth melting away from the pale cheeks. The single remaining ear folded down. A dark, reddish gash was the only thing to be seen where the other ear should have been. The dozens of bloodless cuts radiating from the right side of my face shifted as my smile went limp. The moonlight shone on my coat, highlighting the dark patches of my skin; the necrotic bruises showing through the color of my hair. The dull buzz I could hear over my own thoughts had no beat, no tempo, nothing to do with a beating heart. And my eyes. My dull, glassy, lifeless eyes, sat nearly unmoving in their sunken sockets, my vision seemingly guided by the two glowing dots of purple light within. The monster in front of me opened its mouth, and we whispered “I’m… dead?” in perfect unison. I only realized I was screaming when a set of strong, white, and incredibly warm hooves wrapped around me; I didn’t stop, not even when a gigantic white wing placed itself between the mirror and I. If I stopped screaming I’d have to face the horrible reality. If I stopped screaming I wouldn’t wake up from this nightmare. If I stopped screaming it meant I had accepted this. If I stopped screaming, I was dead. So I kept screaming. Even though the princess was whispering soothing words to calm me down, even when I felt her tears dripping on my head, even while she held me tightly despite my struggle to flee. I kept screaming and trashing in the princess’ embrace. “Shhh, Twilight, It’s going to be okay. Shhhh.” I don’t know how long I screamed. Author's Note There once was a thread in the 'Dark' group of this very website, pondering the implications and hypothetical scenarios of an immortal alicorn getting buried alive. There once was a tweet by Meghan McCarthy saying that "Twilight will not outlive her friends", in response to the concerns about twilight's ascension making her immortal and cursed to lose all her friends to old age one by one. These two met in my head, and when a thread loves a tweet very much, blah blah birds and bees and all that stuff. This story was the result. 4/5
Live/DeathI slowly stand out of the black liquid, letting it drip gently down from my body. I guess it was time to let go. Even the best flesh preservation spells can only do so much against two years of wear and tear. I shake a bit to get rid of most of the remaining droplets and carefully step out of the caustic bath in which I spent the past three hours scrubbing the dead flesh from my bones. The scraping tools float gently on the surface of the black, foaming liquid, and I can even spot the hook I had to use to get my brain out. Apparently the explosion that killed me did so by discharging massive bolts of electricity in the room, one of which decided to pass right through my skull. I can now tell from experience that a two-year old cooked brain pickled in preservation magic is annoyingly difficult to work with. I ponder for a moment what to do with this rotting corpse stew. The smell must be gut-wrenching for anyone with a nose. After a while, I decide that the easiest solution is to simply teleport the whole mess into the nearest volcano. No water pollution or ruined ground, and the smell won’t bother anyone for more than a few seconds. It's far from a proper burial, but I'm far from properly dead anyway, am I? Goodbye, organs. I enjoyed our time together. I then turn the brand-new faucet on, just to rinse myself. Can’t be too careful about the risk of eroding my bones with too long an exposure to acid. They’re not ready yet. … Fluttershy isn’t ready either. She still hasn’t been able to work up the courage to see me in person again. We just exchange letters for now. It’s… okay. My thoughts drift to the rest of my friends while I slosh around in the water to make sure I’m rinsed properly. Most of them take some time out of their week to visit me in the newly-renovated Everfree castle. Princess Celestia formally gave it to me, saying it was to give me time and space to adjust to my new… existence. I know it’s mostly to keep me away from the normal populace so they don’t freak out as much, but it’s okay. I can’t blame them. Someone recently told me I was starting to smell really bad. Besides, with the riots caused by the announcement of my… condition, I agree that it’s best to keep me far from civilization. The only ponies I ever see nowadays are the really brave ones who know what they’re getting into by walking into the Everfree. Most of my friends included. Rarity always brings something to liven up the place, or to work a bit on the existing decorations. Even the older sections of the castle look better with each passing month. I don’t really see the point, but if it gives her a motive to visit me every so often, I’m not against it. Rainbow either spends our times together in my personal, greatly-improved library; or up above the castle, trying to wrestle the wild weather of the forest. Or just bringing me along on casual flights. We sometimes go to fly all the way over Ponyville. ...I honestly prefer to stay here. I need to remember to check if I can still fly with just these puny little bones I have for wings now. Pinkie… just doesn’t seem to understand that I don’t eat anymore. She keeps bringing cakes and candy. She says maybe if I considered hiring guards and staff I could give it to them. I feel it’s not entirely necessary; the wildlife tends to steer clear of the castle for some reason. Besides, I don’t think we need to worry about any attempts on my life. I sometimes get the feeling Applejack doesn’t visit as often as she could. But she’s probably just really busy. Standing up again, I let the water drain and begin drying myself with a towel. My checklist is still where I left it, near the door. Up next is… the few hours in the kiln to make sure my bones are as desiccated as possible. Fair enough. It’ll give me some more time to think, even more than usual. I move to the hallway, my bones making a new, clattering sound on the stone floor. I never knew how much muffled hooves were compared to bare bones. You learn something new every day, I suppose. Even in death. The dark corridors are silent as I make my way downstairs to the ancient blacksmith’s workshop. No one lives here. Literally. Visits from my friends and Spike are the most activity this castle sees, although Spike says he wants to move in with me again. While it would certainly give the castle some more life, I’m not sure this is a good place for him. A mass of old furniture grabs my attention as I walk by, a single object among the others in particular. I pause, then levitate the tall object out and away from the pile. Under an old, mold-stained blanket rests a mirror. I haven’t looked at my reflection since that night I woke up, two years ago. I shake my head at the sudden rush of memories. Of course, leave it to me to invent a new, never-before-seen form of necromancy while I’m too dead to remember how I did it. Despite my best efforts, I’m still far from figuring out a way to undo this. Turns out what I remember of the time I spent fully dead has absolutely nothing to do with what I actually did to lock myself away from the afterlife. Knowing that would certainly be useful. I pull the cloth away from the mirror. In front of me now stands the horrific sight of an alicorn’s skeleton, scrubbed clean of its flesh. Two dots of purple, necromantic light shine in the black, empty eye sockets. I’m not as terrified as I expected. It merely reminds me of the old anatomy models in school. I open and close my jaw a few times, my teeth clacking together rhythmically. That is a slightly more unnerving sight, but it quickly starts looking like some theater prop in action. “Alas, poor Twilight! I knew her well!” My chuckle echoes down the halls, strangely amplified and distorted by the ventriloquism spell I had to invent just to be able to speak when my vocal cords snapped from too much use and the incapacity to heal. That had been a ‘fun’, mute week. I concentrate a little, creating a small orb of light with my magic. Moving it somewhere between the mirror and my face, I notice that the light seems incapable of piercing the shroud of pitch-black darkness inside my eye sockets. That’s strange and somewhat creepy, but mostly disappointing; I would have liked to observe the back of my eyeholes. I draw a leg closer, noticing for the first time the minuscule tendrils of magic flowing within the joints. Huh. Is that how my bones are bound together? Is that how I can still move? No matter, those are questions for another day. I turn away from the mirror, making a mental note to move it somewhere I frequent more often some time later. For now, it’s time to go lounge in an oven for twelve to twenty hours. After that will be the three-day soak in the special resin formula I concocted with help from Zecora, and then a few more days in the kiln to make sure the resin can set and harden properly. And then my bones will be nearly indestructible. Just because I don’t enjoy my undeath doesn’t mean I should be careless with it; who knows how long I’ll be stuck like this, and I’d rather spend that time in a still-somewhat-functioning shell. No sense in vaporizing what I have left when I have no clue whether or not it ends me or just traps me in an even worse existence. I'm not ready to risk that just yet. Still, days upon days of just sitting in place… it’s going to be a long, long week. Oh well. I do have all the time in the world now, don’t I? Author's Note This idea has been sitting half-in my head, half-written for almost a year now. I'm glad to have finally let it out. I hope you've enjoyed reading this morbid little tale. 5/5 And no, she doesn't have a phylactery. She. Does. Not.
