These were days un[recorded], where firmament yet knew no masters... There lived a [pony] in our birth-land of sleeping valleys shrouded. He was born with a special, special gift, that is, he had a gift for kindness in many forms. All who came across him could attest to this, for he exuded it so much that it seemed it was what he was made from. In these days the Rainbow of [Rays?] shone freely and all was well to those fortunate enough to live in these days.

"Ha! Ha! Yay!" said the pony. "Look at how many gifts I've to share!"

So would the many ponies and pony-kin and woodland creatures and [UNKNOWN] come to him for gifts and aid. Were one of them injured or ill, they would only need go to him for a gift of healing and a bowl of hot soup. Were any in need of a helping hand, he would give all aid he could, and often gain the help of others. For this he was a beacon to all who lived in his space, and the butterflies that marked his legs became the symbol of that beacon.

That was, of course, nothing compared to what the animals thought. They loved him as their savior and hero; the lions would carry him upon their backs so his hooves never need tire, the birds brought him news in his mornings, woven into song. The goats and deer made sure his gardens were kept free of weeds, and the lizards slid into the tightest of corners so nothing of his would ever be lost. In the nights the bats stood sentinel, though there was nothing to guard him from; not one soul dared cross him, for it was said his [coming/birth] was blessed and the kindness he exuded from his being was his purpose.

There was one time, though, where the animals began asking for more. At first, it was the goats who asked to feed on the grass of others so they could bear more young. The pony took then to vast plains beyond and gave them their fill. Soon, the Lions petitioned for more goats to offer themselves to them, for they too wanted to have more young.

So it was that the animals made many, many requests, but Kindness could not bear to turn them down. He saw it as his duty to serve them. So after many [measure of time], the animals came to live by him. They no longer saw need to learn to eat and run and hunt, because through his Kindness their kind would be all right.

"Ha! Yay–?" Kindness never truly tired, blessed he was by powers beyond, but it wore away at him to see the animals he loved become something else. They made ever more and more demands, for specific foods to be served on platters of pure refracted light and carefully fed, to leaving him to find ways to nurse children mothers had no intention to spend a thought. Soon it was he who carried them to streams to drink from, and cleaned out their waste when they simply did not want to bother.

His body never tired, true, but his soul did. Eventually the cries and calls and summons of the animals began to dull their edge, and one day hearing them drew a little less will to please. He still wanted to help them, but perhaps, he should do something else? Was his kindness correct in letting them be as they were, growing into globs like this? Of course, the answer must be to help direct their desires a little.

As this thought came, the butterflies adorning his legs flapped. It was but one flap, then they returned to being cutie marks like any other, but everything changed.

"Look at how you have grown, so slothful and decadent! Your wishes encompass so many things, so I shall rein them in that you might find more meaning in them. From now on the goats are only to eat from THIS patch, and no more than five mouthfuls at a time. The lions ask that you sacrifice your young and you have chosen among yourselves, but now I will take one of my own choice. As for the lions, so you never hurt anyone else I ask that you chain yourselves over there far away..."

The animals grumbled but followed his will, and all was fine for a while. However, the trees grew orange and brown, an event that had never happened before. The animals grew afraid and asked Kindness to help them, bit he had no idea what to do.

"You all should stay here and hide with me. I promised to care for you and your every whim, and I will uphold my oath." Kindness stated this again before his animals, and the pony continued his work. The trees, however, carried on with this strange transformation of theirs, as leaves that lost their green were carried away by winds. The warmth of the sun faded over this time, as every day became colder than the last.

Another thing unexpected happened. There was no longer rain, and instead a cold white dripped from the skies. It seemed for all purposes water, yet its touch did not nourish flowers, but withered them. The hearts of the animals were filled with more fear. What should happen if the grass and flowers and trees die? The goats and sheep would have nothing to eat, and those who ate them also worried, for if their prey could eat nothing then there would be no more prey.

Kindness worried too, because he could not uphold his oath if there were no more abundance of resources to feed them. He asked how they lived before he cared for them, and was answered: "We do not know, not any more."

Now they cried, seeing that they had lost all means to care for themselves. There was less grass every day, and soon the newborns of grass-eaters could not even open their eyes before they were given to the tigers. And the tigers could not live alone on small scraps, and soon their own young were stillborn.

The butterflies on kindness again flapped, and the animals themselves began to die. Seeing this, they thought that perhaps they should not listen to his wisdom. It was a frightening thought at first, but fear had to give way to their will to [be known/live]. All pretenses of harmony left.

A spark began to rage within Kindness. He saw everything he worked for crumbling as beast relentlessly killed beast and fought for what little was left. He subdued any who continued to oppose him, and those who submitted often did so because they were starving all the same, having not the strength to fight magic of one of the five.

"It is for your good! Who are you to question me, dirty creatures?"

"What good is there left? We asked of you to care for us. Did you know that we would become as we are now? What sort of kindness is this?" The songbird answered in words harsh and no trace of music, for she had forgotten about that long ago, as had all other songbirds who came.

Kindness, out of a new feeling in him, swatted the songbird aside, leaving his husk to freeze in the cold outside.

At last, the ponies outside, fearful of what became of their old hero, called upon help. Four other [spirits/ponies/elements?], seeing the wilds once-vibrant and now decaying, decided it was time to confront their friend.

Why they had not done so earlier was a question none dared answer.

They entered old Kindness' hut, and saw nothing of what they knew. Animals fighting dearly for their livelihood, having lost sight of any other way. Chirps and humming of birds and insects gone and replaced only by roars of grief and desperation. Inside, once-Kindness pony himself, a rabbit long-dead under and pushing the leftovers of the last brawl to freeze out in the cold.

"Look at what you have wrought, foolish pony. See what you have done? Perhaps you once had kindness and bore it in whole, but we see only a wretched shell before us now."

That spark within erupted, and the pony defiantly cried out. "No! It is not by my fault that all that has bad here has transpired! It was the animals! They in their foolishness asked of me so many things and what could I do but give it to them?"

"Then clearly, it seems you were never fit to bear your gift since your [birth/creation]. For this we curse you. This new thing you have invented, you shall forevermore embody. See how even we fall victim to this?"

As they spoke, fire pulsed from them, most of all the pony who once bore kindness. The snow melted not into water, but vile liquid that drew forth the mad animals and beckoned them to drink. Upon their imbibing their eyes shone with an understanding, before they fell before the steps of the stone and lay [no-longer-lucid?].

"They could not have known better, but you did. We should punish them for the foolishness you accuse them of, but you shall be marked for it all the same." In the steps of song then did the four change the pony formerly of kindness. He wailed and cried, but they cut him apart with [light-made-burning] and began to put pieces of his animal-once-friends onto him.

"No! Please! I beg you! If I am changed in this manner I will never, ever have a chance to know the gift of my kindness again! If this mutilation is a reminder of my doing, how will I be ever cleansed and made anew! I beg you not to do this!" But the four did not listen, and with eyes unknowable they infused each of his new limbs with the new thoughts emerging in their minds.

One saw the turning of a once-ally as something most hurtful. He hoped that Kindness would not suffer this same spurning of friends. He breathed into the new set of wings he wrapped with skin, and they flapped as he placed the feathers on one.

One saw the refusal of his gift as a more despicable abomination. Seeing that perhaps he was so full of poison he would taint anything and all he consorted with, she decided it was best if he never had to give anything away. A strand of her own fur was woven into the threads that she sew onto his arms.

One was most hurt by the stories he told that were not meant to bring joy and wonder, but only to cover his own ends. He gave a few moments pause to consider the many lives that would befall Kindness from now on, and wondered if perhaps such falsehoods should be allowed to give him small comfort. A bead of sweat dripped onto the nail as he hammered in his new legs.

One, was most saddened and questioned why he would rob others of joy. This one had a grain more of mercy and, even as they sewed things that did not belong onto her former kin, wished that he'd find laughter of his own. So much that a single tear dropped into the horns she was binding, and so it was known how his joy would be paid for.

Their fated work down, they looked upon their former friend, Magic lost for all time. The pony rose and went to see what was left of his animal friends. He walked out of his cottage and saw that the a long carpet had been prepared for him, animals to the sides, and at the end stood a coffin called DISCORD, given no colour but that of dead stone, the same grey of his coat. On its cover was a tornado, winds of great change, and above that tornado was a single, tiny butterfly.

The animals spat on him and called by his new name, the same name of the new idea he had invented, the end of the butterfly who flapped. They cursed him, wishing that he would never again know the joys of harmony. His four former friends made a procession for him, three standing by the side while Laughter took him down the aisle. Laughter had no more tears now as she led him to hear cheers of [joy-from-other's-pain] to the coffin at the end.

The [pony-thing] now known as Discord entered his coffin. Amidst his tears, the last he saw of the outside world was the orange of the [sky-turning]. He knew that now he was stripped of all spectra in the Rainbow, and from himself would come the breaking of many a great hero in times to come. At last, the sealing was complete and he was left with no more light. He knew that the long nights were coming and when he next woke up, no one would remember him for all the good he had done.

He knew, as he turned and closed his eyes to the darkness of [death/oblivion/cold?] around him that never again would he be afforded a smile from seeing him, an umbrella in the rain, or a flower in the morning. These thoughts faded, and with it, the last trace of the [pony-thing]...

An old story attributed to Earthian oral tradition, it seems to tell an interpretation of the creation of the being we know as Discord. Multiple references are made to a Valley of some kind, oft repeated in other texts as a 'promised land' for ponies, or where they first arose. What is interesting is how he is portrayed as the kindest of ponies, strongly tied to an Element of Harmony, before a fall purely due to cirsumsatcners olywaroudnhiodownfaultwhioletapeparsthatCHAOS IS GREAT CHAOS IS GREAT

[The rest of this lengthy analysis and commentary seems to have been replaced with cotton candy.]

Author's Note

Sorry about this if it's not up to standard. Stuck too long .