I've never kept a journal before. Doctor Practice said I should give it a shot. Says it's "therapeutic." I don't really see how. I mean, it's not like a journal can talk back to me. Tell me a joke. Make me feel loved. Tell me everything will be okay.
I suppose I shouldn't beat around the bush. My grandfather passed away yesterday, and I didn't take it the best. How was I supposed to? For the last I-don't-even-know-how-many years, he's been the only pony in my life. He's taken care of me since I could walk. Sure, my sister Seraph was around for a while too, but she hasn't been home ever since she left for that school of hers, and there's no one else in this town my age. I suppose I could have left too, but then who would have stayed with Grandfather?
It wasn't a bad life. I don't remember ever feeling super lonely, and anytime things got weird, I had Doctor Practice to help me out. I mean, he's not a friend per se, but he helped. Otherwise, things were simple. Tend the garden, pick up supplies in town, make something to eat... There's something comforting about a routine. I don't know if I ever really needed anything more. Right now though I know for sure that I didn't need anything less.
I made two meals tonight out of habit. Hopefully the other keeps until tomorrow. Taking a night off from cooking will throw my routine off, but really, that's a pebble in the water at the base of a crumbling mountain right now.
Seraph showed up at the house today. I don't know why it surprised me. She ~~loves~~ loved Grandfather as well. We didn't speak for a long time. There aren't really words to express what we're going through, I suppose. I went ahead and made her something to eat. Feeding someone makes me feel better, you know? I made sure to only make one meal this time since I still had one from last night in the fridge. She asked me why I made two last night. When I told her... I don't even remember her getting up, but I remember hugging. That one hug lasted almost the entire day. I really needed it. More than I needed this journal, or Doctor Practice slinging out what I'm sure are the same words he says to everypony going through this sort of thing. In that moment, our hearts drummed the same mournful beat, as close as two beating hearts can get. She sobbed almost the whole time. I could feel her tears on my back, but I didn't care. It told me she was real. Seems stupid, right? Needing validation that she's real? I guess she's just been gone for so long that I practically forgot about her. You know, up until this week, anyway. The problem was that her being real meant that she really was here because Grandfather died. I couldn't take that truth. I cried too. I wish we had hugged out in the garden so I wouldn't have had to water the plants today.
Is that in bad taste? I can never tell if humor is okay in these situations.
I picked up Seraph's old room so she'd have a place to stay tonight. We'd been using it as a sewing room. I think Seraph and I had a silent agreement that working to get her bed available was better than having her sleep in the one other unoccupied bed in the house. She said she'll probably be here every night until the funeral. I wanted to ask about after, but... I'm not sure I can take the answer right now.
This morning Seraph woke up and did her chores like she always did when she still lived here. I can't tell if being home somehow unlocked that for her, or if she just needed the comfort of routine. Maybe both. It was kind of nice not having as much to do today, but the break in routine was just one more reminder that things will never be the same now.
We didn't talk much today. Sometimes she would ask for a tool or something if she didn't remember where it was at or if it'd been moved, and sometimes I asked if she needed help with anything. Tonight though I laughed for the first time in what felt like a year. Started crying. The good kind of crying. Seraph reminded me of the time we got gophers in the garden, and Grandfather insisted on getting rid of them the "old-fashioned way." The image of him hobbling on his hind legs while swinging a shovel over his head is a memory I hope I never forget. Whether or not he's here, Grandfather can still make me smile.
I'm really glad Seraph is here.
Sorry, been a few days. Seraph and I have been spending most of our time getting Grandfather's funeral ready and contacting ponies who knew him. Honestly though, I'm not sure I ever saw him speak to anypony outside of a few faces in town. We put the date and everything in the paper. Hopefully that helps.
We also had to meet with a lawyer today to go over Grandfather's will. Unfortunately, in his old age, he neglected to update it for quite some time. Almost everything in there he left to his son, Seraph and my father. In other words, Seraph and I jointly own almost everything and have to decide who gets what. It's not something we really want to talk about right now. She got quiet and said that I could have all of it, but I know that's not fair. We'll get it figured out. We're both staying at the house with all of Grandfather's things anyway. For the time being, at least.
I let Seraph cook tonight. She insisted. Made a meal she says I loved when I was little. I haven't really had a taste for it in years, but it's the thought that counts. With everything we're going through, even the little stuff means a lot.
Grandfather's funeral was small and quiet. A few ponies from town showed up, but not many others. Maybe one or two faces I didn't recognize, but that was it. The eulogy was beautiful, if hard to swallow. I had a lot of trouble swallowing today. Seraph went up and said a few words as well. She motioned for me to follow suit, but... I just couldn't. I'm not a speaker. I don't even know what I would have said. All those ponies watching me... And I feel awful, you know? There's not one pony on this planet I cared about more than my grandfather; you'd think that'd mean I could have said something heartfelt and amazing to send him on with the best farewell this world has to offer. But I couldn't do it. And I'll never get another chance.
Unless
Grandfather... You were everything to me. I never got to meet my parents before you took my sister and me in, but I know that you loved the two of us enough for both of them, and then some. You taught me everything I know in this life. Lessons I will take with me wherever I go until it's my turn to be buried. When that day comes, I can't wait to tell you all the things I did with that knowledge. Thank you, Grandfather. Know that there will always be more than a headstone that remembers who you were. I love you.
Got the paper a little wet. Might be hard to read in the future, but I think it's the act that counts. I do feel a little better. Maybe Doctor Practice is right about writing in this thing. I should try to see him soon.
You know what I don't get? No matter what we do, every single one of us is going to die at some point. I spent the day at the cemetery, between Grandfather's grave and my parents'. My parents died young because of something that wasn't even their fault, and that's unfair. My grandfather never did anything wrong, got his exercise, ate right, and despite it all, he died too. One by one, my family is being taken from me, and there's nothing I can do about it. And you know what the worst part is? One day that's going to be me. What's even the point of being alive if we're just going to die anyway? What are we supposed to do? What even matters when we and everything we accomplish crumbles to dust in a fraction of time in eternity? It's all some kind of cosmic joke.
Doctor Practice wants to see me tomorrow. I think he's worried about me.
Talked with both Doctor Practice and Seraph today. Feeling a little better. Turns out Seraph is going through a lot of the same thoughts I am, but she's handling it a bit better. Something about an older sister needing to be strong for me. She also said that she knows that we do have reason to be here. She reminded me of how much love I felt from Grandfather, and how much love she feels for me. Even if things hurt, she says that those feelings are what make it all worth it. Part of me wants to say that's stupid, but I can't do it. Somehow saying that feels like an insult to Grandfather's memory. Doctor Practice said some similar things as well. He thinks maybe I should find something that I can invest in. A passion. A project. He said that maybe I could start at the library. I used to read a lot when I was younger, but I kind of stopped when Grandfather needed more help during the day, especially after Seraph left. He said little moments of escape could help me, and even act as a natural extension of the writing I'm doing with this journal. Couldn't hurt, I suppose.
Seraph is still at the house and hasn't talked about leaving yet. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy she's here. She's all I have left. I just figured she would have wanted to get back to school by now. I don't think I can just ask Seraph why she's still here though. I don't want her to feel unwelcome.
I'm still feeling a little... I'm not sure what the right word is. Angry, I suppose. Seraph's still doing her usual chores all day, and with the funeral behind us, I have a lot more free time. Maybe a little time with my nose in a book, reading about different ponies and places... Maybe that really can help put everything in perspective.
Been a while since I've written one of these. I usually write before bed, but I've been up so late reading every night that I just don't have the energy. Rediscovering reading has been one of the best things I've done in quite some time. Seraph got to be pretty well-read while at school and has been recommending me some of her favorites. Reading is a lot of fun, but I think I enjoy talking with her about the stories even more. We don't have exactly the same tastes, but that doesn't mean we can't have a good conversation here and again. Heck, some of our disagreements have led to the best debates I've ever had. Not arguments, mind you. Just a really good chat from two perspectives, really opening our minds to other ways to look at the world.
That's mostly the fictional stories, of course. To be right honest, I've found myself more interested in some of the history texts I've picked up. I know that sounds boring, but there's actually a lot of really fascinating stuff out there. Where we came from, why we do the things we do. Everything we are is because of something that happened a long time ago. And I think that's helped me deal with Grandfather's death as well. See, more than just events, these stories talk about the big figures involved. Ponies long since passed are still remembered by the deeds they did, and even though not every pony's name gets written in a history book, that's still something. I think every pony has the chance to have a story worth telling. Heck, maybe that's why I felt the need to write tonight. Maybe this journal can help others see how great my grandfather truly was. Do you think I'll ever be somepony worth writing about?
There's something I never really realized until now: almost all of the old legends, true or not, seem to involve Celestia and how she was there to overcome some great evil. I know Celestia is old, but can she really be the same pony from all of these stories? How is that even possible? I know she's an alicorn and everything, but... Do alicorns live forever? Why? Why do they live while the rest of us pass on into nothingness? Where did she even come from? Was she always an alicorn, or was she transformed at some point? I talked to Seraph about writing a letter to her, but she said that it would be rude. "You don't ask a pony those kinds of questions," she said. I can't believe she isn't as bothered by this as I am. How can she just not care? Or maybe she does and doesn't think it's her place to or something. Whatever the case, I think we have a right to know.
I heard Seraph crying today. I was going to clean Grandfather's room, but she said that she would do it. I thought about going in to comfort her, but I had no idea what to say. Plus she already told me about how she wanted to be strong for me; maybe she just needed a moment to stop fighting it so hard. I wonder if Seraph has been holding it in all this time, or if it didn't really hit her until she was in his empty room. I don't know. If she needs me though, I'll be here for her.
There aren't too many history books left in the library that I haven't read yet. Out of boredom, I started browsing their periodical section instead. I suppose recent events are kind of like history; they just hadn't had the chance to age yet. I'm getting by with it. That's not what I'm writing this for though.
See, Celestia isn't the only one whose name has popped up over and over again. There are also those who opposed her. Legendary monsters she brought to justice. For a while I thought it was just tales to help ponies adore her, but... Sombra. Chrysalis. Tirek. These names popped up in stories over a thousand years old, and now they dot our newspapers. Sure, Celestia doesn't handle them directly anymore, but just the thought of these creatures being the same as the ones from legends of old... Did Celestia have a student back then as well, I wonder? But that's not the real question here. Celestia has lived for thousands of years because she's an alicorn. That's the only real explanation I have at the moment. So what of these others? Tirek is a centaur, a being from Equestria's outer rim. Though they do typically live a few decades longer than ponies, there are no records suggesting one could have survived for this long. Even with his magic-draining abilities, the fact that he was imprisoned for centuries suggest that there's something else at play here. So what is it? What is it that he and the others have in common allowing them to elude death – even aging – all these years?
Saw Doctor Practice today at Seraph's request. I asked her some of the questions I wrote about last time. She thinks I'm still having trouble dealing with Grandfather's passing by asking about things like "immortality." Doctor Practice agrees and thinks that I'm using it as a veil to disguise a fear of death. It's an interesting theory, I admit. Really made me introspect a little bit. I told him about how I've been reading and have already gotten through most of what the library has that interests me. He suggests that I have a newly discovered thirst for knowledge, and although it's healthy that I've found a new hobby, he fears that it's come with an unintended side-effect. He says that with this desire to know everything, I risk hitting a frustration when I come to wall blocking me from things that I'll never be able to understand. This ties back into death, full circle. He says that I fear it and am obsessed with longevity because I can never know what waits for me on the other side. There's no way to prepare for it. I have to either accept that I will never know, or come to a belief of what will be there for me and take comfort in it.
Again, this is an interesting theory. Something to ponder while I tend the garden, I think.
Coincidentally, I picked up a book on ghost stories yesterday. Tales of ponies and other creatures who never quite made it to the other side. Ponies who have seen them, the things they've done, who they were in life, why they still cling to this mortal world. Doctor Practice is right in that I can never know what's waiting for me after death, but there sure are a lot of accounts of those trapped on the bridge there.
Seraph has been teasing me about reading ghost stories lately. Says they're just for kids to try to scare one another as a prank. I laughed and gave her a challenge. We went to the old Cottontail place today. Been abandoned for a few decades, ever since the family vanished mysteriously. That's how the story goes, anyway. Seraph sneered at me and said I was being stupid, but one thing led to another and we wound up going. Waited for a night with a full moon, just to add to the atmosphere. She was making jokes the whole walk over, but got pretty quiet once we were on the property. She tried to stop me from going in, saying something about breaking and entering and the police, or whatever. Didn't stop me. She still followed me in, though she never got too far away from me. The place is a mess. I'm surprised the floor never gave out and dropped us right into the basement. From the looks of it, at some point in time, a few kids got in and painted some of their favorite emblems on things. I couldn't tell if that made me feel better or worse. I kept my face straight, but my heart was pounding the whole time. I could practically hear Seraph's as well. My heart almost broke through my chest when I heard a pan hit the floor. Seraph screamed and we both bolted from the building. She swears she saw something in there. An incredibly aged stallion with overalls and a pair of red eyes, she said. I'm not sure I believe her, especially since no one in the family that went missing was any older than middle-aged, but that really doesn't matter here.
I can barely hold a pen steady, even with magic, but I'm glad we went. It was fun having a little adventure with my sister. Maybe I should try getting out more often.
This trip didn't really give me any of the answers I was hoping for though. ~~I mean, I know I can't just sit down and interview a ghost, but you'd think a close encounter like that would~~
I think I may have discovered something. These old ghost stories always talk about how the deceased was some tortured soul in real life, or that they died in a gruesome, unfair manner. Their spirits are angry that they've died, that they suffered an undeserved death, and because of that, they can't bring themselves to move on into the afterlife. They can't rest knowing that injustice exists. Even long after those who've wronged them have met their end, these spirits continue to restlessly walk the earth.
Okay, let me spell this out plain and clear: hate. Extreme hatred is anchoring these spirits into some twisted extended life. With that said, let's attach this to what else we already know.
Several of Celestia's enemies from ages long past have started cropping up again in recent years, many of them still just as lethal and intact as they were centuries ago. Tirek hates ponies, and his pride couldn't suffer being imprisoned by one. That hatred kept him alive all that time despite having a mortal body like the rest of us. Sombra felt a deep hatred for the crystal ponies who could bask in the warmth of the Crystal Heart while he and his kind suffered from it. Chrysalis and the changelings feel such a deep hatred innately that they actually have to feed off of love, and even when unfed they survive for millennia. Nightmare Moon survived her imprisonment due to her hatred for her sister. Now, I know, she's an alicorn too, but follow me on this one. I don't think the alicorns are immortal. "But then why has Celestia lived for so long when she doesn't feel hate like that?" It's simple. There are two sides to the coin. While extreme hate will grant longevity, so too will extreme love. Cheesy, I know, but I think banishing her sister to the moon was so emotionally painful for her that she had to outlive the banishment. One thousand years she waited for her sister to return, and then once that time passed, she took her back in without a second thought. Now with her sister back at her side there's no telling how much longer she'll live. And, let's be honest here, the other known alicorns haven't been around nearly long enough to know if they have immortality as well yet.
I wonder: can any pony with such strong feelings one way or the other survive for as long as these beings have? Even a simple pony like me? I mean, I've been mad, but I can't say I've ever felt hate on that scale before. The only pony left I feel any real attachment to is my sister, and we only just started reconnecting after Grandfather passed away. I mean, it's not like I DON'T love her, but... I don't think it's the same love that all the stories talk about, you know? You know what, this is stupid. Of course I love my sister. Not loving your family... that means there's something wrong with you. ...Right?
Seraph made me go see Doctor Practice again. This is getting ridiculous. I asked her if she loved me, and now they think I'm depressed and will do something drastic, or something like that. There is nothing wrong with me. I can't help it if I'm curious by nature. Doctor Practice started spewing some of his usual "you're important, life is worth it, ponies love you" spiel again. I am getting so sick of it.
It doesn't help that I've had to scrap my recent theory on longevity either. One factor threw a wrench into things, as he always has: Discord. No description I've ever heard of the creature makes him sound like an angry, vengeful spirit. In fact, he's downright jovial. He does what he does because he thinks it's fun. Ponies get hurt, sure, he gets imprisoned, yeah, but it never seems to get under his skin. Heck, I hear he's even started to play nice lately, though oftentimes he still gets up to his old tricks.
I'm just so frustrated. I feel like I could tear this house apart. I know it's almost midnight, but I'm going to go take care of the garden. Seraph tended it while I was seeing Doctor Practice. Thought she was being nice. Ironically, all it did was give me more work to do. Now I have to fix everything.
I figured it out. It all makes so much sense now. It's not hate that grants lasting life. It's evil. Discord has lived for so long because he doesn't care about how his actions affect anyone; he does whatever pleases him with no regard for pony life. Chrysalis and the changelings steal and feed on the one absolute good in this world. Sombra enslaved a kingdom. Tirek drained a race. This is the one absolute between all of them. And it took a force as strong as the Elements of Harmony to stop them. Surely this is the key. Granted, love is still an option, but thus far only Celestia has proven that method. I think it's pretty clear which is the easier to obtain.
I've been thinking about it all day. I've wondered. I've wondered if it's possible for anyone to achieve this. Like me. I know that sounds bad, but hear me out. Does the pony have to be evil in their heart, or just in their actions? I know I'm not evil. Though today in the garden I did give a rabbit a good whack with the shovel. I didn't even feel bad. I know that doesn't sound good, but he was eating my carrots. I'm not going to feel bad over something I had to do.
Seraph has been acting weird. I asked how much longer she was going to stay at the house. It's been a few months now. I know school started again. She just gets quiet and says that she doesn't think it's time yet. Keeps trying to make my favorite dinner. It would help if she actually remembered it, or remembered that I was always the better cook. Whatever.
She actually went so far as to contact Doctor Practice. I don't even know why. Just said that she thought that it's been a while, and that I should see him. I told her no. I don't see the point. There is nothing wrong with me. I'm not suffering, or misguided, or any other word that they always use on ponies who need doctors like him. The fact that she would even consider contacting him again is incredibly grating. Then she asked if I wanted to talk to her about anything. Something about how we haven't talked in a long time. That's absurd, of course. How can you live with someone and never talk to them? She said that's not what she meant. She stopped making sense a long time ago. I really don't know why she doesn't go back to school.
Saw Seraph digging in the garden. She buried a few of the animals I killed to protect the crops. I don't think she realizes that the bodies make excellent deterrents for other pests. Maybe if she bothered listening to me she'd actually learn something.
What qualifies as evil? Is it a feeling? What actions, words, and thoughts are deemed worthy of a term so cold and filled with hate? It seems to me to be entirely societal-based. When morals are defined by ponies in seats of power, so to is immortality. Who are they to judge? What's evil to the rabbit is necessary to the wolf. If a pony's conscience does not warn them, does not stop them, does not guilt them, then are their acts truly wicked? The more I try to answer these questions, the more frustrated I become. Research simply leads me to the words of those who came before me, more often than not Celestia herself. This alicorn continues to draw my ire. I've asked Seraph once or twice why things are the way they are, and ultimately she ceases to answer me. Just gives me this strange look. Is it really that hard for other ponies to question the status quo?
Speaking of Seraph, she's currently outside feeding some of the rotten varmints I've been slaving to keep out of the garden. That mare continues to be a thorn in my side.
Been thinking more about my longevity theory. Been trying to put it into practice, but I don't feel all that different. Killing Seraph didn't even change that. I feel like slaying one's own sister should have triggered something incredibly... deep. I'm not sure how else to describe it. I just thought there would be some kind of overwhelming dark presence rising up in my body after the action, but instead I just sat there, and she just lay there. Nothing changed. Well, nothing except that I don't have nearly as many rodents in my garden anymore. Nice to see Seraph helping out for once.
Doctor Practice and a few others are out back with Seraph now. Still not feeling anything. Theory may need some additional research.
I've been in deep study and meditation over the last few days. Murder has done little to awaken any sort of darkness within me. Looking back, it was foolish to think that was the key; plenty of ponies have killed one another throughout history. It's not exactly a new concept. There are no murderers to date who have remained alive through time except for the beings I've come to call the Prime Evils.
There must be more beyond despicable acts to arouse depravity in the heart of a mortal. Murder has the highest form of punishment in the land, yet it is not enough. I must think beyond the veil of what our society deems right and wrong. Go further than the thoughts darkest minds tread. What have the Prime Evils done that I have not? What separates them from the other ponies history recalls?
Discord is a spirit. Perhaps it's only natural that he does not die. Can you truly kill the embodiment of an idea? Of a concept? I think that so long as chaos exists in this world, so will Discord, in some form. And while we're ruling out possibilities, perhaps I should ignore studying Nightmare Moon for now; we still haven't determined if simply being an alicorn is enough to stand strong in the face of time. So what of King Sombra and Queen Chrysalis?
Huh. King and Queen. They had followers. Sombra enslaved a nation while Chrysalis has an army to do her bidding. Multiple acts of evil on a daily basis, both to and from their subjects. Inflict and inspire evil. Spread it through fear and hate. Yes, perhaps this is the key.
I doubt it matters much to me. I don't have an army. I don't have a legion. I don't have ponies crushed under my hoof. I doubt there are even enough ponies in town to bring a sizable force and march towards my victory. I am not powerful enough alone to inspire fear, nor would any follow in what's been deemed Equestria's most peaceful age.
~~So I'm back to square one. All I have to show for how dark I've grown is~~
Just had a thought. My head is spinning. I must go to the library. I'll continue this later.
I'm not sure the library is safe anymore. Ponies are looking at me strange. Whispers of disappearances around my home. I think they grow suspicious. Perhaps my timing could have been better when asking for a book on necromancy.
Naturally, the practice is outlawed, and as such the only real material on the subject are the laws and sentences surrounding such acts. As if I care. The punishments of ponykind matter little to me. I am not one more peon who falls into place with a smile. I am an unrealized god.
Just because I can't be taught how to bring the dead back to life does not mean I can't discover the power on my own. In a stroke of genius, I combined two of the most innocent spells imaginable.
Puppetry has been around for thousands of years. Amazing how something that breathes no life on its own can last for so long. I remember a traveling show with a puppet presentation when I was very young. It was simple: the unicorn behind the curtain used his magic to levitate a pair of dolls and make them interact with one another. Just a small twist on levitation, really, and there's hardly a unicorn out there without such skills mastered. I began by trying to levitate the corpse of Seraph, but by this point, her body was too far degraded. It fell apart not long after I tried to move a leg. I'm still not sure what I did with most of Doctor Practice's remains, so I moved on to the unicorn couple who came "passing through" not long back. They were a little stiff, but that was to be expected.
This, of course, can't even be considered a pale imitation of life. There's no way I could pull the strings on a dozen or more ponies, let alone a legion of them. That's where the brilliance of the second spell comes into play.
The union of the three pony tribes brought about a new age of magic and comradery. It's truly a testament to harmony to see how much each race of pony has been able to help out the others. Naturally, unicorns and our natural gift for magic did the most work, but I digress. See, after the pegasi came to the ground, they discovered the animals that earth ponies kept as pets. Drawn to their charm, pegasi enjoyed the company of these creatures as well, but were forced to live grounded if they ever wanted to keep one. The unicorns developed spells to automate flying machines to keep pets airborne and allow them to walk on clouds like pegasi do. It was an awkward adjustment for many animals, but some took to it more easily than others.
Pushing history aside, I devised a spell similar to this to "automate" my puppets. It started with simple commands: stand, sit, walk... Some programming took a bit longer to take hold, but before long, I could control one with just a quick spell. Unfortunately, trying to get both to listen to separate commands at the same time quickly grew taxing. Once again I find a way to prove my genius.
Having two unicorn puppets proved to be coincidentally advantageous. Believe it or not, I programmed one to use its magic to program the other. Things got tricky when I tried to reverse who programmed whom, and as such, I had to designate who was the "leader." Results were phenomenal. With this, I realized that I could program two corpses to program two more, then they program two more, and so on, and so on, spreading my word across any number of walking dead. And with designated "leaders" I'd have a chain of command not unlike that of an army. All that's left is—
Someone at the door.
Police came asking questions. I don't think they expected to be drafted. The number of puppets under my control is growing, but it won't be long until questions become commands and I am exposed. A few more bodies and I will show this world what I am capable of.
I'm sitting in the mayor's seat at Town Hall while I write this. Truly, this victory came too easily.
My attack began on the outskirts of town last night. No one saw anything, no one was expecting anything. We spread house by house, each stop adding to our numbers and subtracting from theirs. After two dozen or so puppets stood behind me, I programmed them to start taking lives by themselves. I wanted to see how they'd do without me. And they executed everything beautifully.
It was almost dawn before the first scream echoed in the wake of my impeding triumph. By then it was too late; my followers already outnumbered the town, and many of my puppets were stationed at the only ways out. I'm grateful that this was a unicorn settlement; I'm not sure how I'd deal with pegasi just yet. Not without a few of my own to chase them down, anyway.
I admit, some puppets did break in all of the excitement. None of the originals remain, but they were too degraded to withstand a real attack, I suppose. The fresher meat was much more difficult for my enemies to subdue.
Now I can go wherever I please in this town. I can browse the library without ponies staring at me as though I'm some sort of monster. Granted, there are still stares, but I can deal with vacant ones from the puppets who still have eyes.
Perhaps I'll see if Town Hall has a wine cellar and celebrate. I don't think today could have gone any better.
You know what's boring? An easy victory. It hasn't even been two days since I took this town, and already I'm climbing the walls. I want that feeling again. The adrenaline of war. The satisfaction of watching my opponents crumble. It's positively maddening. Besides, my army grows stagnant. Though I do not have to provide provisions or quarters for them like other militia are required to do, my puppets aren't built to last very long. It's the natural order for those who perish.
I think I can hit two birds with one stone here. The next town isn't very far away. I can get my thrills and fill my army with new blood. Or lack thereof, rather. The next town after that is just a little further north, as is the next one after that, and—
Oh. Oh, I am clever. The North. If I hit every town along the way, I can easily overpower the Crystal Empire. It would hardly be a challenge. The population there would massively increase my ranks, and those ponies... those crystal ponies... History has already shown how quickly they roll over and accept subjugation. Then I can sit in a real throne, not this pretend one offered to placate those in "government."
A whole kingdom, just for me.
I'm rather keen on this idea.
The invasion of the Crystal Empire was perhaps the most exhilarating moment of my life. The few books released since its discovery barely did the actual capital justice. And I got to be the first pony in a thousand years to watch it burn. The way the flames flickered off of every surface... Magic.
Just like the towns before it, we attacked before dawn. I underestimated the size, however, and barely had more than a few neighborhoods covered before alarm was raised. Most crystal ponies tried to run, only to find their exits flooded with my puppets. Those who turned to fight did not survive. A few pegasi and unicorns flew from the castle, but they did not last long, especially since I picked up a few feathered fiends myself in the last town. Other races may have bolstered their ranks, but crystal ponies still don't have the raw power of unicorns, or the aerial advantage of pegasi.
I suppose the one leg up on me they did have was that my army struggled through the journey. I programmed them to coat themselves in a heated veil to protect against cold and snow, but magic can only do so much. Still, it mattered little.
I think taking the castle was my favorite. Most of the fight took place in the streets, so being in narrow hallways was rather refreshing. I stayed at the outskirts of the capital for most of the battle, but this I wanted to witness firsthoof. I wanted to personally crack the skull of the empire's leader as I asserted my place on the throne.
That's where today's one real disappointment came into play. As my minions broke into the throne room, I just barely saw that pathetic princess whisk through an open window. A few undead pegasi tried to stop her, but there wasn't much keeping them airborne other than sinew and the inability to feel pain. No matter. She left behind her husband. I'm sure they had some sort of farewell before he foolishly stayed behind to try to stop me. So noble. Right now I wish I had strung out his demise longer. I could have used the entertainment.
No doubt Cadance is already halfway to Canterlot to meet with Celestia and tell her all about what happened here and bereave her husband's fate. Good. I'm sure in all of Celestia's years she must have some experience with being a widow.
Though this does pose a problem. Now that I've been exposed, there's no doubt the full brunt of Equestria's might will be at my doorstep. I'm sure each of the alicorns will be leading the charge, as will the Element Bearers.
It matters little. I have prepared for this. Each of them have their stories written extensively in both history texts and recent documents. I've studied them. I know them inside and out. Where the Prime Evils failed, I will succeed. Alicorns or no alicorns, Elements or no Elements, I know exactly what to expect. And them? They have no idea who I am or what I'm capable of.
Dear Princess Celestia,
I found this while cleaning out the Crystal Castle. I'm not sure how it stayed intact, but I know I can't leave it here. I think it would be best if we get rid of it, but I'm leaving it with you in case we ever need to consult it in the future. If anything like this were to ever happen again, maybe, just maybe, something in here would help us to better prepare ourselves. Just please, PLEASE keep this in your private study where no pony will find it. I don't think it needs to be said how disastrous it would be if this fell into the wrong hooves.
Princess Twilight Sparkle
P.S.: We haven't scheduled any funerals yet. I will let you know when we do. I'm really sorry, but I won't be taking any letters in the meantime. There are ponies here I need to be with, and I need some time to myself as well. I hope you understand. I might try writing in ~~our~~ my journal a little. I hear writing can be therapeutic.
Author's Note
Story pre-reader: Flutterpriest
