Lyra through the Worlds

This is the tale about a mare, called Lyra, and the pain she suffered.

Let's go back. About ten years. She was just a filly then. Ponyville was her home. Living there with her parents.

Her mother, she looked just like Lyra  does today, with just a little difference in her coat and mane color. They are mint-blue, with white highlights in her mane. Her name is “Aniara”. Such a beautiful name. Inspired by pollution, war, … tragedy. Kinda fitting for this story.

Like her parents intended it to be, she grew up loving written and spoken art. That is resembled by not only her cutie mark, but also in her career and family. An authoress. Poems and novels about tragedy and the joy of overcoming them escaped her pen nib and the shimmering rainbow colored aura that was the sign of her magic.

She sure was something special. Not because of her talent. Not because of her ability to bring tears of sadness and joy to anypony who reads her writings. It was because of her eyes, which were so full of color and hope that they could make everypony smile in believe again. They said: “Everything is going to be fine. After every storm comes a rainbow.” This is just one reason why she caught the attention of her future husband.

Lyra's father, an olive green coated earth pony stallion with a brown, scrubby mane. He is so much like his wife was. Full of joy, he brought smiles everywhere with the reed pipe he always wore around his neck. Not just any reed pipe. Lyra made it for him for fathers-day (or what the equestrian equivilent of fathers-day is called), when she was eight years old. Okay, with the help of her crafts teacher. Nonetheless, he loved it and its sound.

He met Aniara back in kindergarten. That's also, very unusual, where they got their cutie mark. When he first saw those reeds, stringed together in an arched row, his heart filled with love, joy and other wonderful emotions. His first song, a ballad, stunned everyone in the room. As he played those pipes, tears and smiles crept into the eyes and faces of the colts and fillies in his group discovering emotions they didn't even know that they existed. And lost feelings of lost love crept back to one of Miss Cheerilee's predecessors.

But that's not all that happened on that day, not even in that hour. No, during the same song. As she was dazed by the beauty of this melody, Aniara began to sing. She wasn't or isn't a very good singer, but the words she chanted, were full of elegance.

    “Rest now … My warrior

    Rest now, hardship is over.

    Live. Wake up. Wake up.

    And let the cloak of life – cling to your bones.

    Cling to your bones.

      ...”

As both of them were finished the only sound left was sobbing. Joyfull sobbing, because the song was so beautiful.

But when they finished, it was a time to celebrate, as they both got their cutie marks. Aniara got a quill, for her love of words, and Pan (oh yeah, forgot to mention. His name is Pan) got this kind of flute, six reeds stringed together in an arched row, all different lengths, ordered by lenght, for his love for music. He liked to call it his “Pan Flute”.

By the fact that one of them, might not have gotten their cuite marks without the other, a very special friendship bonded them together. They both enjoyed being with one another, as they had much in common, but also learned from each other. Pan learned from Aniara stuff for school while Pan showed her the excitement of exploring the wilderness.

Over the years, friendship turned into love and they got married when they turned twenty. Not late afterwards, a baby arrived. A little, mint-green filly, who they decided to name “Lyra”.

She inherited their love for the arts and she is quite skilled with magic. Her parents had to look around to make sure that none of their property shimmered in yellow aura. But not all was perfect in her life. She didn't get her cutie mark until she was twelve. A pretty long time considering, most foals got them with ten. But she didn't bother much about it.

All three were happy with their lives. They got their poetry, their music and hearts full of love. But the most important things, at least for Lyra, were their stories. All three of them had the talent to tell stories. They could even make a trip to the market seem like the most beautiful experience in the world. But the one who seemed to be the most talented in this subject was Pan.

Whenever he returned from is expeditions across the land, ordered by Princess Celestia herself, to explore the still unknown areas of Equestria, South Griffonheim, and all the others , he fascinated his family with the tales from a different universe. A universe with creatures known as “humans”. Walking on two legs, with arms and hands with fingers and the clothes they constantly wore.

Lyra was astonished every time he talked about this world as if he was really there. She wanted to be there. She wanted to be like them. But she also knew that her father just made this stuff up. Or did he?

One day, Lyra recently got her cutie mark, Princess Celestia herself stood upon their threshold with the most terrible news they could imagine. Pan got lost on one of his expeditions. His team searched for 3 days and 2 night, but without any success. He was declared dead.

And within the instant of a blink, all color from their world, from Aniara's eyes and her magic vanished (No really. Her eyes and magic aura turned gray). Music stopped. Happiness became tragedy. Joy changed into sorrow. They didn't even remember how long they have been crying.

Aniara found her relief in alcohol. All the money she earned with her books was spent on liquor. Lyra, on the other hand, found another obsession. One month after his supposed death, she found a strange note on her shelf. It read:

    “Hello Lyra, my beloved daughter.

    I am alright. Don't search for me. Look after your mother. I will return. But for now, I have to stay in the land of my stories.”

                                -Dad