The Cracks in the Wall

Excerpts from the journal of Quill Illuminator

May 3rd Celestia’s Year 989

I’ve just arrived at this wonderful place; it’s full of books and ponies that have been hidden from the world since they were just a child. They gave it a name, it sounds ridiculous, but after they explained to me what they do here, it kind of makes sense. It’s called The Monastery of the Sands of Time. It’s amazing, everywhere I wander there are tall marble columns, or precious metals and stones worked into filigree around important areas. The books, they are everywhere, bookshelves line walls stuffed full, and books were still laid about in stacks in the corners of the rooms.

The Abbess was practically waiting for me at the door, it’s hard to understand all of these strange things, but there was a feast prepared for my arrival. Apparently, every five years someone shows up to work here and nopony else even knows that this place exists.

It was strange, because before they let me into the monastery they asked me about my dreams. Those that arrive have been called by dreams. A few of them told me theirs, stories involving a voice calling to them so that they can gain knowledge, and help ponykind. I wish I could tell them a story that was similar, a happy beckoning to a light or a loved one’s embrace, but my dream is something I fear.

I saw all of Equestria like a map, and darkness seemed to roll over it from the mountains. I saw the columns from the monastery, but I didn’t know at that time where they were from, they began to crack and crumble into dust. The ponies that walked among them began to shrivel and age and the books that surrounded them set up in a dire conflagration, all was ash and all was darkness. Then a single column of light, it enveloped me in a warm and gentle glow, and what lay before me was a shining green quill and a book with a silver cover, lined with gold. I stared down at them and as I picked up the quill, a scream rang through my head. It was my voice, torn from my own throat and I was covered in sweat. I’d be drawn to the mountains afterwards, like gravity pulling me sideways instead of downward.

I don’t know if I’m filling in details now, or if this is actually true, but the ponies I saw that died. They look familiar now, ponies I’ve met and laughed with in these halls. I don’t know what brought me here, but I hope that the darkness will not come because of me.

January 9th Celestia’s Year, 997

It’s been a good day today! I was accepted as a novice into The Order of the Yellow Sun. It seems my practice in book repair and illuminating has been noticed. I’ve been here for almost eight years, and I’ve finally made a decision, I want my skills to be remembered. I want to make my mark on this monastery, to leave my skills for future generations.

The monastery is a bastion of knowledge, as it keeps the history of Equestria safe and in one place. We are unbiased, as we are a part of no kingdom. We do not have any records of Celestia coming here, so most here believe she does not even know that we exist. New ponies come to the temple every five years, and they are entered into The Order of the Pink Dawn. All of the monastery’s needed skills originate from this order; the novices begin by repairing the bindings and covers of books. It’s a mixture of magic, leather, and thread. Once they are skilled enough, they are brought into the adept ranks and ponies are taught to repair and re-ink the illustrations and text that have faded but are still legible. The masters have the most difficult job, and only unicorns are allowed to be a part of it. They are taught the difficult magic of divination. Words that are too illegible and have no other surviving copy to reference are divined from the past so that they can be rewritten. There is another order, limited only to Unicorns, The Order of the White Moon; they are the masters of divination. Their job is to reach into the past and find history that we have yet to record, they make notes and give them to the order that I am now a part of.

My new order is one that records the history properly into books, calligraphically on illuminated pages. Its beauty must be matched only by its accuracy. I mentioned before that I would be making my mark on the monastery; my illuminations as I grow in skill will be unique with my own creative flare and style. In the future, when the books I’ve written have begun to wear with use; those young ponies new to The Order of the Pink Dawn will pick up my illuminations, my drawings, and redraw them. They will copy my skill and style, recreating it, and I will help shape their own abilities. Skill augmenting skill, an endless cycle of improvement.

It’s a bright new day, and the dawn is behind me!

August 9th, Year of the Two Sisters, 5

It happened, my dream has come back to haunt me after all of these long years. The mountain that the monastery sat upon, silent and peaceful for uncounted centuries began to shake and smoke earlier this week. I was ordered to leave, and given a gift from Abbess Flowing Song. She said that if at the end of the week I don’t see her, then I should take the pack and depart from the mountain; that I should consider whatever it held my own.

Today is the final day of the week, and the sky is filled with darkness, if any ponies were still alive up on the top of the mountain then they would have suffocated by now. The little flickers of light that I see every now and then through the smoke are not sunlight, if the mountain is going to turn violent, then it will not be long. As I’m writing this a bit of smoke parted, a shaft of light encircles me and turns my thoughts back to the nightmares that brought me here when I was a foal. I don’t know if I can withstand the world outside of my marble columns and gold filigree. My mind will remain here. Always.

Twilight stared at the book; she wasn’t sure what to make of it. The pony laying on the cot in the corner sure seemed like his mind was in another place. “Spike…can you fix some tea?” She stared at the pony she assumed was sleeping, unmoving to be sure, but it wasn’t very different than what he was doing when he walked into town.

She walked over to him; his fur was blue with a soft pink mane. His spectacles were wire rimmed either gold or gold plated, and his cutie mark was a large ‘A’ written calligraphically with a quill stuck through it. Suitable enough, she thought, if he was a scribe and illuminator like his journal says. Spike had returned with the tea, setting it on the nearby table, the small dragon fidgeting at he watched Twilight stare at the strange pony. “So, Twilight…what are you going to do with him?”

She turned and looked at her friend, and then back to the scribe, “I don’t know…I barely understand who he is, but…he doesn’t seem dangerous.” She moved back to the table and sipped at her tea, sighing before she looked back at his journal. “I haven’t looked through the rest of his pack yet…I was hoping I wouldn’t have to.” She paused again, frowning, what was the right thing to do?

Her main concern was not truly that he would harm the village; he hardly seemed to have the ability or the drive to do so…he was just lying there.  Did he bring something that could hurt her friends? Or would something follow him here?

“I…I’m going to bring him to the hospital and let them take care of him there,” Twilight said slowly, taking a gulp of tea and pushing the mug back across the table from her.  “I will continue to look through his things here.” Twilight moved and picked up the blue pony’s pack, but something fell out; two things. A dark green quill, possibly emerald, and a book plated in silver and lined with gold. “That was…from the journal, his dream.”

Wordlessly, Twilight left to bring the orderlies from the hospital to bring this unusual pony to where he can get help. As for her, she had some studying to do, whatever broke his mind could just be the loss of his home, but she could not shake a sinking feeling in her stomach. Something dark was headed to Ponyville, and whether he knew it or not, this pony was right in the middle of it.