Hexagons: Part l

by Wand3r3r3

Rating: teen
Tags: Mystery, Rainbow Dash, Cutie Mark Crusaders, Rarity, Crystal Ponies, Adventure, Tragedy, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Alternate Universe, Roseluck
Length: 8964

Rewriting the tragic history of the Crystal Ponies is impossible . . . unless you're immortal.

The Crystal Ponies have been gone for eons, and no one seems to care anymore.

In this modern age, history and society have greater things to worry about, and while it is severely disappointing, the reason is valid: Our very first generation of ancestors — our glistening mothers and fathers — are indeed the reason why the current generation, and every one before it has been . . . haunted. Stalked.

Watched, monitored for most of our lives, their reasoning is unknown, and what's left of the Crystal Ponies' history is disappearing fast. However, there is but one individual, cursed by age, who plans to retain and mend that history.

But will it serve to be just? Will it mend more than just three broken minds, bodies and souls?

Published 2015-01-23 14:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2019-10-15 07:25:46 UTC

[====_Foretold_====]

[====_Foretold_====]

On the dawn of the only day in a week that presented a cloudless sky, the residents of a small town all gathered together. That said, from a bird's-eye view, they were coming from any and all directions, no matter how small the size of the population was. Not everypony was awake at the time, but a still-well number of them knew the importance of participating in a town meeting. No other dire news was ever to be heard of here.

    "What do you think happened?" asked one of the residents; a shorter mare with a teal coat that leaned it's color to the lighter side of contrast. Her mane and tail made rough shapes similar to a mechanized cutting saw, if viewed from a few feet's distance, but the mere shapes were obviously not as deadly. Her looks were they only deadly part about her. "Nothing ever happens here. This town's almost dead."

    The mare who answered her--that of a similar build--was just as skeptical as the original inquirer, and it proved true through her voice.

    "I...don't have the slightest clue," she replied, sporting a heavy coat on her back, the hood lifted above her neck and sheltering her head. It was evident, by the small bulge at the top of her head, that she was a unicorn. She must have been especially sensitive to the cold setting that the morning provided, in more senses than just the temperature.

Nevertheless, the two females decided to pair up, just as everyone else had been doing. Everypony who lived in this town was summoned to a mandatory gathering near it's library, where a supposed crime had taken place the night prior.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The End of the Beginning~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

---Fate Foretold---

***

**

*

Ponyville, one of the most well-known places of residence in Equestria, was also, at one point, at competition with Canterlot for the most visited area by tourists. It was a bright, bustling, albeit loud town where nothing but crazy, random shenanigans mainly took place, and no more.

    The ponies there lived absolutely carefree, as they knew nothing would ever happen. The little ones would only dread the time of day where the sun sank behind the massive stalagmite to the south, where they would have to cease play and head back into their homes until morning came again. The golden, glimmering silhouette of Canterlot would shower the small town with a similarly gilded glow, but only for a few minutes as the sun hid behind the spires of the royal sister's towers. This presented an excellent opportunity for the older ponies to find new beauty within the town they had lived in for so long.

    Everyone's lives were simple, but rather amazing at the same time.

    But then there was the one day that all of that changed...

No pony saw it coming.

*~~~~~~~~~~~~*

The town's local library was where they were summoned to appear, as this was the place that the crime took place. Its exterior was made out to be the body of a the gigantic tree in the nearest, rightmost edge of the town's limits, all too familiar to the ponies who lived there.

    The natural parts of the tree itself, such as its many branches and the nutrient-sapping weeds growing all around it, had remained untrimmed and unkempt for a few months prior to the gathering, subtracting the ones that were torn apart by the storm the night before. They all hung low, weighed down by the early morning dew and other remains plants that were attached to higher altitudes on the tree, and also torn apart.

    It really started to look unattractive ever since Twilight Sparkle, the newest Alicorn princess bestowed with a crown, had left Ponyville for the country's best benefit. The library had remained mostly unattended since then.

    When everypony in the town was seen to be present and heard to be shushed, a beautiful mare with an almost holy coat of highly contrasted grey walked up to greet the crowd.

"Thank you to all who chose to attend this calling we've set forth," she called out to her audience. The spokesmare felt comfortable enough to be talking to her neighbors, largely due to the small amount of those who chose to come.

    Her mane and tail, showing off a bright, brilliant gleam upon the perfect saturation of royal purple. They both curled up around all the most seemingly intricate places at the ends of each; twists and turns. With a slight breeze that suddenly decided to blow through the area, the impeccable beauty in the hairs that her divine coat were comprised remained the very same.

Her name was Rarity, and she had groomed herself flawlessly for the occasion.

    "So," a small colt asked out from the even smaller crowd. He addressed her while she was speaking to a few other stallions behind her, those who wore black suits and looked like official figures of authority, based on their intimidating looks from afar. "What happened here? Anything important?" His own impatient demeanor told everyone a lot about him, though the whole town knew him. He was the school bully at Ponyville Elementary, located in the furthest, west-most direction from the library . "I have school in like, an hour."

    Rarity was still talking with the well-dressed characters at the very rear of his sight, at the end of everyone's, really. It was a few more moments before Rarity dismissed the suited stallions with a few nods of her head, then turned her attention back to the crowd.

    "Actually, ahem," she started, clearing her throat. "This situation has been, ah, unofficially resolved. "You're all free to go back to your daily tasks." Rarity stumbled in her speech a little as most her audience dispersed into several directions. A few stayed in their general position, chatting with their friends, discussing their disappointment with their, perhaps, unnecessary summoning.

    Eventually, after everypony else left the scene, aside Rarity, one mare was left to wander the quiet, cold grounds that laid all around the library, which she approached with fair enthusiasm. It was the one who wore the thick-layered coat on the back, with the neck's strings tied around her neck and it's sleeves filled in with her legs.

"Excuse me," she called to Rarity, who was once again preoccupied, speaking with the same stallions in black. "Miss?"

    Immediately after bidding her friends adieu, Rarity turned around to greet the mare seeking her attention, and she did so with an insomnia-stricken look on her face.

    She looked exhausted.

    "Oh, my dear, I'm sorry for not noticing you earlier. It's just that, well..." Talking to a more common mind helped her clear her own. "Well, there was an investigation going on here, about four O'-clock this morning, when most of us were asleep."

    Rarity explained the details of the events to the best of her ability;

"Someone would bother to steal a little piece of a history tome?" The somewhat clothed mare looked absolutely puzzled, but inside, she understood the gravity of the situation.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Apparently, under everypony's sleeping muzzles, one singular character broke into the town's library--Golden Oaks--overnight. A thick pallet comprised of nothing but parchment was taken; stolen. Being the new abandoned nature of the building, there was perfect opportunity for the silent, unsuspecting crime to go unnoticed, and the odds would have been in the criminal's favor.

The significance of this act seemed belittled to most ponies, no matter how hard they might have thought about it. Those who aren't able to see the full magnitude of something as specific as this;

Especially this...

They're special, in so many more ways than the mind could conceive, let alone believe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That's impossible!" The mare suddenly snapped. The fury that had shaken her head threw the hood of her material coat even further down her back, revealing a sensitive, bodily coat that took a fair amount of time for it's hairs to stand up on end, due to the cold, but rising, temperature.

    She wore a heavy seafoam-themed color all along her furs, which quickly shrunk back down to her skin as she already grew acclimated to the warming temperature Her mane, and the tip of her wavy tail, were both streaked heavily; a pattern lined with a pure, holy white and a paleish-green shade that shined bright upon contact with the sunlight. She could have been seen from half-a-mile away.

    Her eyes shined bright along with her seemingly glimmering fur, numbered in the thousands. Their fresh golden color absolutely mesmerized those of an unfamiliar tint. It was a well-known fact that organic beauty like that was unnatural, but this mare possessed them regardless.

She was incredibly beautiful, to say the *very least. And her name was Lyra Heartstrings.*

"I know, it's strange," Rarity responded, unclear of the description she received from Lyra's shock. "There were so many other things the culprit could have stolen, whoever she was."

    "She? So we know it was a mare?" asked Lyra, in a crisp lash of her gentle voice.

    "Well, no , not exactly. But I assume that, since the majority of everpony who lives here is female, this ongoing investigation can be lead to believe that it was indeed the same sex."

    Lyra saw the bit of logic in that, but there was still plenty of flaws within it. "Huh, good point. I suppose everyone here is a suspect for the-"

"Get...away!!"

Lyra and Rarity both jumped almost a whole foot from the ground as a high scream was heard from somewhere nearby. But it also sounded muffled, as if somepony had instantaneously felt an incredible type of pain. The thought occurred to them, however inexact, but they instinctively acted upon the happening regardless.

Circumventing the library, Lyra led the way. They were both convinced that the scream came from somewhere behind the massive obstacle that was the building itself. The thick and heavy ligaments that became grounded also became an obstacle for them to have to avoid as they hastily trotted to sound, wherever it was, exactly.

    They were almost running with how many other ponies noticed the vocal cue and headed towards it. It had alerted the whole town, apparently. But then again, it wasn't every day the residents heard something that sounded like a legitimate attack.

    "They're back?" Rarity slurred through a delicate combination of anxiety and exhaust. She also spoke the truth, as the tall stallions from before--the private investigators Rarity had hired--returned to the scene. They undoubtedly noticed the happening from their far distance, all thanks to the same vocal cue.

    "They must have heard it too, just like everyone else!"

It didn't take too much time for all the other ponies to frolic to the scene, whatever it was, and it took even less time for them to block the view that Rarity and Lyra could have had-

    "If only we were faster." Lyra muttered. Rarity concurred with her and tried to work out a solution, when her ears perked up all of a sudden.

    "Police?!" Rarity panicked.

    "What!?"

    Rarity was correct, as the sound of carriages was heard, and quite prominently over the crowd. Before they arrived, these two  mares could hear the vocalize what they had seen, and some others reacted in shock to what they heard from those who were closer to the scene.

    "Did they just say..." Lyra shook her head in utter disbelief. "Did they say that there was a death here?!"

    Soon enough, official figures of authority shoved their way through the crowd, getting in Rarity's way as they did the same to her. Lyra headed off in a different direction, circling the crowd and trying to make her way past, but her semi-passive nature started to get the best of her, and she was stuck for a while, trying to decide what she wanted to do.

    "Body confirmed," spoke one of the officers from the inner circle of the growing crowd. "You guys were right."

"That's it get out of my way!"

    Frustrated and anxious beyond control, Rarity threw her body threw the thickened crowd of ponies. She couldn't fathom why ponies were so attracted  to something like this; something that was beginning to sound like a dangerous situation. She was able to push through, but Lyra had quickly returned to Rarity and pulled her back as much as she could.

    "I don't think we should get too involved in this," she yelled, over the voices all around them. Rarity thought heavy about this, as well as something else that was running through her mind at the time; the whole morning, actually.

    "I heard them mention a body," she continued. Rarity nodded again, but this time, she did it slowly. She seemed...defeated.

Finally, after a few more agonizing series of seconds passed, one new, somewhat bellowing voice towered over all the others that were present.

    "Alright, everyone move outta the way! This ain't a scene for you to be enjoying!"

    The thick voice was also feminine, yet intimidating, as ponies were already clearing a path for her as she commanded. The entire crown actually began to disperse as well, as she closed into the scene.

    "Kinda seems like this town isn't exactly as innocent and quiet as everyone thinks."

    It was true. With the way the entire town responded to this event, whatever it really was, everypony had the potential to be the cause of this whole investigation...

Out in the distance, while everypony else was out of their homes, one lone figure watched the scene play out, in what little shelter the house was; where this character resided.

    She had laid her stomach on the wooden floor, barely holding the scarlet curtains open and peering between them, panicking deep in the back of her mind. Her streaked, two-toned, raspberry mane and tail had its said flavored color distributed between both sides of them. And straight down the center of each, a sweet, candied pink streak ran through, exemplifying her magnificent beauty in so many ways.

    Her eyes gleamed their dark emerald radiance as the rising sun had been touching them for a good series of minutes as she just watched. But eventually, she had to retreat behind the drapes' cover, with how much more intense the sun--and the situation--had gotten over such a short amount of time.

As she pulled her head back, her long and suede-like mane covered her entire forehead, and a little more than that. It was difficult for her to see past the hair in front of her eyes.

"We need to get out of here now."

~Distants

[=====]

A heavy trail of color rushed down from the city of Cloudsdale, at an incredible speed. There were many rivers that ran down from the Pegasus's primary place of residence in Equestria; with about twenty solid streams of a light dampness both within and around them. The thick blanket of dew that was always present has always, to this very day, been created by the very light, yet structured and sturdy foundation of the city.

    The clouds themselves.

    The fluffy clouds that the iconic city laid upon were always, and rapidly, moving in a gigantic circle around the deepest inlaid grounds of central Equestria, also pointed in the north. They were always filled with elements from the weather that was excreted through them, leaving them with an almost entirely frozen surface from the bottom up. This allowed them to be able to support the city's aerial location above the land, and to be able to retain its position in the sky as well.

    And two of the most fondly recognized landmarks of the country laid in this particular region of the country; where Cloudsdale cycled its typical route.

"This land."

There was Neighagra Falls, from whose heights are second tallest in all of the country. From its apex, if one were to climb there, they would be able to oversee the whole ocean to the East. On a bright sunny day, they could easily make out the wide stretch of land that laid across it, and the Crystal Mountains would aid greatly, relaying the reflections of its glistening structure across the sky at its highest altitude.

    Being only a few meters shorter than the Falls, they would refract through the moisture in the nearby air, sending vaguely, hardly noticeable rainbows comprised of microscopic polygonal shapes of all sizes, allowing one's eyes to quickly acclimate to the brighter radiance and see farther distances with greater clarity.

    There was also the great stalagmite in the center of the country, the one that the city of Canterlot laid its rather awkwardly positioned foundation upon. From the bottom up, the city was constructed, brick by brick and stone by stone, carefully crafted along the waterfall that accurately crashed down the mountain's slope.

    With one small pond to contain some of that water being part of the city, the rest of it would make its way down to the land below; a steady, curvy stream halfway circumventing the city of Ponyville. That same stream would then split into two separate paths; one heading down to either side of the desolate desertland to the southwest, and the other meeting up with a trail from Neighagra to deposit its contents into the eastern ocean along with it.

"...If only all this was here when I was a kid."

    Both of these magnificent sculptures of natural build are provided with the water they pour from their heavenly altitude from the even higher heavens; again, Cloudsdale. And the lively elixir is then distributed through the land through the many canals and rivers that ran though.

    In the Rainbow Factory, the weather for the entire land is artificially manufactured. This is due to the fact that the region below the city is not as close to any significant source of heat or cool, humid or haze. With the exception of the great Canterlot Falls bringing a light mist over the city on windy days, it was up to Cloudsdale to create artificial, coltmade weather for these areas below.

    To maintain most of their fertility with rain, to promote condensed heat with clouds, even to keep up with early earth pony traditions after a season of play with the snow they create; for children and adults to enjoy all the same:

    That is one of the main duties for the gifted ones. The Pegasi.

"So... *Beautiful.** I just wish I could share this moment with someone..."*

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Distants~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***

**

*

In the furthest southeast corner of Equestria's east ocean shore, the character presented its appearance with nothing more than the sounds of it's hooves sinking in the soft sands. Along the shoreline it walked upon, the character wore another light coat, similar to the one it was hiding under in Ponyville before. The winds from the circular bay--contained within the geographical shape of a horseshoe--blew against it, and its hood blew off the figure's head for the first time since it began walking on the sands, wet and saturated by the racing ocean.

"The breeze," the quadrupedal figure murmured softly. "It feels...fairly strong tonight." It followed with a deep exhale. "The moon sure is big, too."

It was, it really was.

    The bright star above was abnormally close in relation to the Earth, illuminating the pathway down the sinking sandy shore, and literally everything else. The waves crashed against each other as they retraced their steps back to the ocean's enormous body. Such sounds, amplified by the thick silence all around, brought peace to this character and was indicated by the decision to pull it's hood down even further.

    The wearer's mane had fully come out into the open air now, as it was somewhat trapped underneath the base of the coat's hood, and her horn seemed to glitter in the moonlight. It seemed to be untouched, regardless of the weight pressed down on it. However slight that weight was, it was enough to keep it in place; hidden away from those who would be able to identify the rouge.

    She popped its way up as she graciously flipped her head skyward, with her amazing mane retaining its shape; a long stream of hair, faded in color yet abundant in allure. It looked to have been in a fixed style over some year's time, and it was either that, or this pony had used this style all too often.

    One wonder, for certain; one of the many things that would have been on anypony's mind if they could only see the elusive character, was his or her gender.

"Gosh, I love all of this. Absolutely all of it."

    But based off of the length of the wavy mane that now flowed freely and a bit sloppily through the intensifying winds, a theory could be brought:

    One that seemed to suggest that this character followed a more feminine nature.

A few more steps ahead gave an excuse for her to rest for a while. She had been walking the shore of Horseshoe Bay right at the moment of the sun's descent, identified by the aurora-like waves in the higher skies, very much similar to the ocean's malleable form. The sands beneath her hooves proved to be a bit troublesome, as her legs would actually sink in the sands.

    But she had found a spot to rest her body.

    A set of lone rocks near the water's approach was thought to be a rather risky move for what this mare wanted to do, but she heard toward them regardless, all thanks to another thing that had been built nearby.

    There was a tall, coltmade construction that rose up from a corner at the front of one of the rocks. It was built with bundled up twigs, thick in size and diameter, and tied with binds that were magically applied. And at the very top of the structure was a similarly thick sheet of hardened clay with a small, thorough intrusion in its center. One would be able to poke their hooves through it, but what this construct was designed for was the mere sport of casual fishing, for those who just enjoyed the outdoor life and had plenty of time to spare for it.

    And it was at that very rock where the mare decided to sit herself down.

"This feels so nice. I've missed it so much." She spoke to herself, silently. "I've missed anything at all..." She removed what little clothing she was wearing and trapped it underneath the same rock, nestled between the sands themselves and a wedge that protruded from the earthly fragment. "I haven't been this tired in such a long time."

A few hours passed after this mare decided to take a rest on the chilled shores of the horseshoe bay. She had actually fallen asleep, and peacefully. The amazing feeling of the gales and moisture pressing against her naked, yet coated flesh, was all too much to bare.

"God," she murmured, yet again. "This feels *so** good..."* She began to settle back down into comfort, but she suddenly pulled herself back up. "But I'd better get to work, too."

    With the known devotion she had in her mind, she sat straight up and faced the construct in front of her new position. She reached her hooves behind her head and fiddled with her mane a bit, puncturing the incredibly delicate strands of hair the seemed to have looked like they were held together with adhesive.

    After a few seconds of feeling her way in her mane for what she needed, it finally fell straight and left a trail that dove accurately down her back, bundling with itself a bit as it touched the rock's cool surface.

     Another portion of her mane was left to flow along the winds as it laid on her right shoulder, the feeling of the gales cutting through her hair, causing her to shudder a bit.

    Finally, after acclimating to both the temperature and what she was planning on doing here, alone and unknown, she cast a magic spell which radiated with an audible coo and a contrasting tint. Suddenly, the rolled-up scroll that she had stone from Ponyville's local library had sprung down to meet the open hooves in front of her body, ready to be subjected to further foreign influence.

    The mare spread the parchment out against the top of the construct's build and laid her hooves firmly against it, so that it would not blow away in the winds, rising as they were. She then activated her magical prowess once again to begin a temporary addendum to what she had began back in Ponyville. It would only be temporary because she would continue her work once again, later.

    She had an enormous task ahead of her...

As she continued writing, the night air, the water at her hooves, and the light radiance from the nearby moon lent her enough energy to continue on for a whole hour. She had no physical quill to use, she instead gathered the moisture that was in the air and magically bundled it up with a few grains of sand; concentrating it into an ultra-precise and generic type of lead that would only barely appear visible on white parchment paper.

"What a pain," she complained. "Should have kept that quill..." If she were to stick with her prior plan, she would need to resort to her current method sooner or later anyway. "Darn it."

    She needed to be intent on being perfect with each magical stroke she cast upon the parchment, for one mistake could cost her the deformity of the story she was deathly adamant to tell; the very integrity of a lifetime spent.

Two more hours passed, and the mare had been growing very tired over this period. But her vigilant mind helped her ignore such exhaust, as she kept writing without ceasing. She had made very significant progress, too, with the time she had spent. The only time she did stop, however, was to fully take in one more sudden gale that brushed up against her sensitive plush coat and stare up at the moon as it did so, losing every total thought she had held when she did.

"I really hope you're starting at the same moon I am, sis... If you can even see it." The mare wept, bursting out in tears for a short while, and also with the few additional occasions that followed. "I just want you back..."

    What was her exact purpose for undertaking this task? Was she missing someone? And who could it have been?

    Who was this mare in the first place?

"Why did you leave me..?"

[===__Correlations__===]

[===__Correlations__===]

The whole town's population was shaken up as they all discovered, one by one and word by word, what had really happened. About that blood-boiling scream from earlier...

    "Well, what are you all looking at? There's nothing to see here!

The mare who had charged her way through the thickly layered crowd--even still growing in its size--had dispersed the surrounding witnesses.

    She didn't like what she saw either.

    "Feel free to get outta here whenever you want to. It's not like I don't have any right to consider you all suspects and take you in!"

    With just those few words from the authority figure, the crowd dispersed back into the city's concentrated areas, such as Sugarcube Corner over to the west side, from the scene. Though, nopony was really in the right mood to eat anything, or even run the bakery for that whole day.

    And even the ones who went back into their homes to spend further solitude--or worse--with their foals; they would hold them close and tell them in every way that they were loved and that everything would be okay. And they would, to their furthest extent, hide the truth from them and let absolutely nothing hint at the truth.

    The truth was not dismissed easily, at all. It wasn't any minor anomaly.

    It was devastating...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~The Persistence of Loss~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

---Correlations---

***

**

*

Rarity, upon seeing, scanning, and recognizing the dead filly's body that loitered in its cold place, instinctively walked closer to it. Lyra stood close to her for the duration of the entire scene and dismemberment of the crowd, but she saw Rarity's face from a devious angle as she took her actions forward, and she didn't saw a word, or move an inch.

    "Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to stay put!" Despite seeing the wondrous mare progressively break down, the bipedal character with a badge on her uniform stopped her. "You're no exception. Stay away. Go home...or someth-"

    "No..." she slurred, through disgust and disbelief. "How..?"

    "Miss, I won't give you any more warnings. It's for your own good."

    Rarity only glared at her with her surprisingly bloodshot eyes, adding onto the deathly stare she gave the other mare from underneath her furrowed, flaccid and false eyelashes.

    "Shut it!" Rarity let loose the fury of her voice; both magnificent and intimidating. "That's my little sister! Who the hell are you to tell me to back off?!!"

    Lyra had to fight Rarity's attempts to lash out at the officer. The victim's older sister didn't mean to do so, and she knew it was a terrible choice on her part, but her emotions had led her to believe that, with the probable outcome of a deep investigation taking place later, the victim's body would be taken away.

    And that wouldn't give Rarity any time at all to mourn, because she just couldn't understand. She wasn't sure if she could ever see reason in this horrible act.

    She still couldn't understand, at the very moment that Lyra cried a certain sympathetic reassurance.

    "Rarity," she slurred through her tears. She knew Rarity's younger sister only a little bit, but she they were acquainted well enough that it brought literal tears to the teal unicorn's cheek. "I... I wish I knew the right thing to say here."

    "You don't need to stress over it, dear." That was all she said. "Thank you for your help though, Lyra." The addendum she proposed didn't help any, either;

Rarity strongly stood there, defeated, and that was all there was to it. Her gaze upon her younger, deceased sister's body stayed as adamant as when they first set eyes on her. No tears trailed her face, yet sadness overwhelmed her. No anger made its presence apparent, but she welled with it.

    It all consumed her, in addition to the confusion she had to implement into any sort of reasoning anypony had for killing her sister. She felt numb to anything and everything, and now, she was convinced that she would remain that way forever.

    "Do you think they'll figure any of this out?"

    "I'm not leaving anything to chance."

The redheaded mare pulled herself back from the thick curtains once more, her eyes being hesitantly pulled away from the scene outside. She was a cautious one; hiding in this house with boards set up everywhere to block all entrances to the inside. She took refuge in this house, disguised well within a street containing other abandoned homes like it, in an abandoned part of the town.

    She was smart to bleach her hair the same auburn-toned color as the entire exterior of the house, and the curtains she hid behind, even if they were concealed behind thick wooden planks. She was conscious of all her surroundings; and everything she did prior to hiding in the first place would ensure that no one would notice her escape from this doomed town, let alone stop her.

Her name was Rose, and her good, impeccable heart was definitely crushed under the weight of many of the same, namely type of flower.

And there was no stopping her. She wasn't alone in this pursuit...

She had a friend

    "You can never be too careful, you know," a light female voice emanated from seemingly nowhere. It seemed and sounded as if it was reverberating off of an empty room; and such was the situation in the very room the mare cautiously stood in. But again, there was no source to be detected, an each word this character spoke left faint echoes to linger in it's vicinity. It also left an air of ease floating around Rose, and it was managed just by being close to her.

    Perhaps the speaker might not have even been real at all, in fact, and Rose could have been ridiculously ill in her mind. His supposed existence could have lied upon her health, for all she knew, truly.

    "Yeah, you're right. But I could never leave anything to chance. Not now, anyway."

    "You ever realize that it's kind of funny how you know more about me than we do? It kinda bugs me," she joked, before speaking again. "But hey, I know it's not your fault, though."

    She felt it; every second of it. She loved her friend. She loved her best friend in the world.

    The only one she had...

    "I know, but hey," Rose started, staring at the wall for a few seconds, blank for an even longer series of them:

"It's not your fault either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The beautiful, defanged Rose had an acquaintance with her friend since she was born, or shortly after, really. At the time she was physically conceived, there was an acutely-timed, incredibly heated, nationwide debate about children born with any shades of purple in their hair. This was a very strict following that spoke of "the demons of Equestria's past", and the movement only lasted a few years, but, those special children who were born during that short timeframe were immediately take away from their parents and, they were either murdered by their captors, or the entire family was left to suffer the same fate as the child was constantly guaranteed to.

Roseluck was spared this certain fate, however, through the miracle of hope, or what was believed to be just mere hope. At that time, there was no hope for anyone. The beliefs got way too out of control and murders started occurring every few minutes, utterly convinced that the perpetrators were doing their God good, a favor;

'His bidding.'

    Just after she was abducted from her parents' place of residence by members of that godforsaken group, she was placed in the care of a mare who's name Rose couldn't remember to the current day, but she sure remembered what she looked like. No, that was all too clear to ever forget:

    She was a plain, perhaps personified version of a lifeless animatronic; with no feelings or emotions whatsoever. She showed no compassion at all, in the entire period of time that she cared for the little wilted, malnourished Rose.

    Her coat was of a pale, weak color, similar to her mane and tail; both worn down and unkept that seemed to have grossly radiated, with the dark, corrosive aura that was thusly dignified by the way she brought her new, unconditionally adopted filly up and into the world.

Her name was Pinkamena Diane Pie, and the only way she knew the world at that time was how she lived hers back then.

Rose spent her life locked away from the outside world, because Pinkamena feared that, if she were to even as much as breath in the outside air, she would turn against her and do the unthinkable; to betray all the trust she put into little Rose. She loved Rose with all her heart, despite how many times it had been shattered and how many times it had to be put back together by force. She felt like, if she cared for a child that wasn't hers, one that wasn't at all related to her through blood and attached to her through the same flesh, she could develop a sense of happiness and self-approval once again.

    She treated Rose well, but she never let her outside. Rose never ever got a chance to experience the brighter side of all the misery that this left her with.

    The pain that scarred her to this very day...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Let's go, little Bloom," Rose ordered as she started moving toward and into another room. Immediately, she jumped at another chance to watch the happenings outside, in the distance.

    "I'm a big pony, I told you already," the girl recited. She would be told that very same thing for a while to come. "Can you please stop calling me that, cuz that bugs me more than anything else."

    "Yeah, I will." Rose didn't sound like it, through her voice or the words she chose. "I'm just a little nervous, is all."

    "A little? Ya think?"

    "I'm so glad I'll be having you on this trip...Big Bloom." Behind Rose's serious, resolved face, she cracked a small bit of a smile; the best she could do to stop the giggles that wanted to escape her mouth.

Rarity sat anxiously in a sort of interrogation room, with soundproof padding along the walls. But, like a common example anypony would likely think of at their first thought, it was not as corroboratory to them.

    "I'll be with you in one second, miss."

    The mare from before had brought her to this little police station near the very outskirts of town. There was no need for it, really, with how small Ponyville was, but, having it in place was clearly in best interest for society. She was prepping a few things before she would sit down to ask Rarity a few question regarding the incident with her presumable sister.

    Rarity looked around the room to see the details that told her that the room she sat in was a normal office-like suite, complete with nothing more--and no less--than only the necessities required for normal operation of any enforcer of law. She scanned the room over, spotting a few small posters posted on one of the four mesh-covered constructs, in which the small space was comprised of. Their own space was mostly taken up by what looked like a few columns of ponies' mugshots, but she really couldn't tell. When she scooted the chair closer to the cluttered desk, to get a better look at the scraps on the wall.

    But before she could register the images, the mare came entered the room once more.

    "I'm sorry about the wait," she said, finally lifting the dark shades from her eyes, placing their nose on a frontal cluster of her short mane. With the shades off her face, she looked as if she hadn't had much time to wake herself up before she headed to the scene outside. Her eyes still seemed a little sensitive to the artificial light that shined from both a low-hanging ceiling lamp and a self-standing, manipulative rod that carries a few miniature, high-powered lightbulbs. The setup looked a bit intimidating to Rarity, but she knew she wasn't in any kind of trouble.

    As she pulled her body back into the comfort of the chair, Rarity also happened to spot a rather spacey, rectangular plaque, and it looked as if the front plate was embedded with the color of a certain, aged bronze. She also saw the name that read on its aforementioned faceplate, and read it out loud to the mare:

Her name was Rainbow Dash, and her heart had perhaps grown insatiably soft over the years she had spent on her own.

    "You got me," she responded. " Now, uh, would you like a bottle of water or something? Snacks?"

    "No. No, I don't want anything, thank you."

    "I hope you're not too traumatized," Rainbow Dash explained, doing her best to comfort her silent suspect. Being quiet wouldn't help Rarity at all, and she knew that. They both did. "We're going to need all the information you can possibly give us, or all that you know you can. This case is going to need it. The truth is going to need it."

    "I know..." Rarity didn't do much after letting her eyes gaze at the desk, relinquishing support of her neck, to look Dash in her incredibly beautiful, unshielded eyes.

    She was a witness, and she needed to share her story with this world. She just had to...

Rose, one of the bravest sprouts of life that would ever walk this world, had gotten over the fear of failure that she had held deep inside her consciousness from the very second that was split when this trouble began to rise.

    She had a mission; a mission of her very own.

    But there was one question that even she had to ask herself. One that, despite how every step and every stride of her new life would have to subsist with--or outright avoid--she couldn't even bring herself to think about, clearly. Her thoughts were clustered in much more than just a few senses.

She even wondered...

"What could I have done back there?"

    Her resolve to leave her old life behind and create a new one for herself... It was a mere work in progress from the first thought she conceived; when she settled on completely forgetting every little thing she had ever lived for in her lifetime.

Friends. Love. Surrogate family...

She couldn't take such baggage with her on her journey. She had to be alone.

"Did she die because of me..?"

"I can't answer either of those, sorry. But I'll do my best to help you out, big sis."

~Identity

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

[==___Driftwood___==]

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

~Evanescence

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

[=____Betwixt____=] (convergence)

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

~Inhumed

Something has gone wrong. We don't seem to have an archived copy of that chapter.

~Recollection (Prologue)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**The Crystal Ponies~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***

**

*

Existent by day, expired by night. The power of the celestial sun's light, filtered through the ancient relic--the Crystal Heart--gives life to these Crystal beings. They are all deceased and are truly an extinct race, as past tragedies and massacres have left them ever so.

However, with the power and privilege of the Crystal Heart, the ponies are able to experience life after death.

A sheet of parchment laid blank on a dark desk inside an even darker building, locked up behind it's sturdy wooden door. From the outside, a concealed and hooded figure approached the only window at the base of the exterior, scanning the inside for any activity.

A massive rainstorm had been pummeling the ground below for quite some time, and it had beaten the dirt and grassy terrain into little more than just mush. The coat that the quadrupedal silhouette wore was drenched in rainwater, and all four legs of it were covered in mud.

The figure lightly sighed.

"I'm actually doing it," it spoke, deep underneath its breath.

After examining the interior one more time, it carefully opened the window, loosening it from its locking mechanism. But instead of using it's hooves, it manifested a weak magic to accomplish its goal with no sound at all. The evident unicorn figure then opened the window and climbed through the sil in the wall, closing the window back silently after it entered. The light coat that was worn had been afflicted by filth that spewed up from the very ground. The violent gales outside were unlike anything this town would normally see.

After entering, the first place the illegal intruder headed was the desk at the far end of the wall directly ahead of it, where the parchment laid. The ambiance that emanated from it's horn led the way. A nearby quill was magically snatched upon arrival, and then quickly dipped into an intricately designed cup of ink. Then, the cloaked criminal started to deface the parchment with it's own additional literature, spaced directly below it's introductory.

Their genealogy provides them with this ability through the concept, and fact, of reincarnation. In their deceased state, they are all alive in the form of ultra-transparent spheres of light that roam free in the spacial matter of our world, freely. They can also take on a non-corporeal, yet visible form, that anyone can see if they concentrate almost every bit of their will towards it.

Still, no sign of detection allowed for further writing.

Crystal Ponies, whether airborne or not, are able to be seen by members of their own kind and bloodstream, with very little setback. Also note that, while their blood isn't any factor that contributes toward their communication, it is merely a similarity that does indeed help keep them gathered together, but in an unconditional, forceful way. Such is the case for those those that have been in close proximity to one another for quite some time. But it doesn't always measure up to that result. Some of them willingly choose to leave what little they have behind, and the fact that they're able to do so proves that they are able to feel emotional attachment, since they know they would be completely alone if they do.

Of course, since they possess no physical bodies any longer, and that they are invisible to anyone else but their own kind, the entire science and logic behind the afterlives of these wise ancestors of ours-all of ours-is slaved over and over and over even further. To the point, even, until the very thought of the possibilities that pertain to them indeed existing is flawed into absolute corruption of the mind's basic, primary understanding.

Any, and possibly every other race of ponykind, cannot seem to fathom any sincere thought of theirs to go toward the logic, even simple fantasies. Perhaps, though, the latter, as the use of fairy tales and the like. With the rise of conflicts between and within religions all over the globe, every effort has been made to debate since the conflicts' popularity has risen. Far too much strife had been present to pay any due attention to imagination and wonder.

There is, however, but only one place where the Crystal Ponies need not hide from the cruelty and insolence of the world of today, regardless of their inability to feel fear anyway.

The only reason why the author stopped writing was because the prolonged use of his or her mind. But after a while of cautiously listening and observing, enough energy had been regained in order to resume writing.

Underneath the wet, grey cloak that this entity wore, minuscule traces of tears started to well up inside it's eyes. There wasn't enough to had been leaked onto the cold hardwood floor, or down the thin grey coat that the wearer also wore. But hesitance was more than surely present. The weak and hazy, conditionally hued aura that emanated from the writer's horn was perhaps the only characteristic that would come close to defining it's identity, if anyone witnessed this act.

The writer also wasn't very tall, at a recognized glace; standing just only a few inches shorter than most equine residents of the world. If he or she had been crouched down while writing, reducing the use of his or her energy, the shape of this character could give the impression that this is the doing of a mere filly.

However, it was highly doubtful that the writer was indeed the age of a filly, given the boundless intelligence of the topic it was writing about, unless it had studied about the Crystal Ponies with the insane intent to rewrite their history.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**The Crystal Empire~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

---The Birthright---

***

**

*

This popular tourist location, tucked well into the furthest northwest mountains of Equestria, is also the namely land of origin for the Crystal Ponies. Or at least, that's the general consensus that history leans toward, in society's striving need to be correct.

While the Crystal Empire is home to many Crystal Ponies, and always a home to all, not all of them choose to take any further residence there. Some of them, unable to experience frail cowardice, decide to leave what very little they have behind and search the world for a place they feel is their rightly home.

The Crystal Ponies are able to roam freely during the daytime, anytime, but only while taking residence in the Crystal Empire, where the heart of immaculate ore is forever elevated above the region. The sun's light touches and enters the Heart, and it is then refracted along with the iridescent gleams from the relic. The vaguely hued light shines over every inch of the region, and provides the one and only foundation for the Ponies' lives.

The Crystal Ponies' lives are consistent with day and night, just like the lives that you and I live. When the sun begins to drop, the city starts to sleep. Portions of the city can stay alive that day until the crystal light vanishes from whence they stand. However, those that are not present in the Crystal Empire at the time of sunset are able to remain outside the city limits for as long as they have stored some of the light within their souls. But they must return to the Empire before the light in their souls depletes. Expiring the privilege of free roaming the Earth will result in the second and final death of that individual, in which they will never have another second chance at life.

They are gone forever, no returning.The crystallized iridescence is what gives the Ponies life, and it is infinite. There need not be any worries regarding scarcity or greed.

The ponies also, really, have somewhat physical bodies, but it is too vague to classify them as actually possessing them. The most they could do upon trying to interact with the world is talk, which have always been vocalized as whispers--even if they scream--and wear a few articles of light clothing, proving that their ethereal bodies are also capable of touching. Sadly, though, they still wouldn't be able to feel the touch of anything, or anypony else.

Crystal Ponies have no way of remembering their tragic history, for the devastating event had resulted in the segregation of both organic thinking and emotion, to put simply. This is the reason Crystal Ponies are unable to feel little to any stimulants toward fear, excitement, love, hate, loss... Not even a sense of fulfillment through achieving something in their second lives. But again, those who are able to can seek out a new life for themselves, however doubtful they are afflicted.

The Crystal Ponies cannot feel and experience anything-literally-on their own. They live their second lives accursed, as the popular belief of reward in their second life emulates from their suffering in their first. They appear to all have been wrong though, considering the way their history had to take the unexpected turn that it did.

The author, its quill enveloped inside a slowly strengthening aura, was beginning to run out of ink. The Unicorn, identity only minimally deducible from it's use of magic, quickly dipped the quill's tip into the small cup of the dark liquid and traced it immediately back to the parchment it used to write upon, the pen dripping not one bit.

The complete story of the Crystal Ponies and their depressing history has yet to all be claimed and confirmed; such is the sad truth. There are so many fissures within the basic logistics regarding their very existence.

One can only believe the salvaged history that lives today for so long...

The writer ceased its actions. It laid the quill it had been using on the desk that supported the stained parchment. It's tip had glided over it so much that it had broken, and ink leaked profusely. But a little evidence wasn't going to stop the hooded Unicorn from rewriting history.

The intruder, namely, wasn't supposed to be where it was, in an area surrounded by shelves upon shelves of books upon books. They lined the entire wall in front of the figure, with the exception of the small space it used to write, being directly between two bookshelves. This was the only hint as to what this building really was.

"I've got what I came for," the Unicorn thought to itself.

With no intent on staying any longer than it did, it silently trotted with a decent across the enormous rug in the room, making no sound with how thick the decor was beneath it's feet. The rainwater dripped off of the coat both to and from the desk, and the floor was fairly afflicted by it. The cloaked intruder then magically unlocked the small circular window at the wall opposite to the massive bookshelves and climbed out as soon as it opened.

The storm outside proved to be a nuisance, as the sound of marching raindrops and rushing wind made their way through the open window and into the building. The character, however cautious it was to this point, had closed the window again, but not to it's full extent. If anypony else did happen to catch a glimpse of the mysterious character, their eyes would most likely be deceived. With the once lush trees around rushed low enough to the ground and the haze in the air so thick, no one could ever correctly assume that the figure was really there.

"Sorry, Rarity," the hooded figure muttered under it's breath once more, but he or she was able to hear themselves in that instance. Then, less than a split-second later, the silhouetted figure vanished, and in it's brief evanescence, only the clothing it wore was left to fly along in the violent gales that ravaged the area.

Whoever this was, he or she had some sort of hesitation to intrude upon the residence that which had been targeted.

"Sorry, Rarity..."

Those words; this regret, would most likely ring inside the character's head for the duration of the goal it had set out to accomplish.