Before the Beginning

The thing was confused. The pretty lights had told him what to do, but he didn't know what to do now. Bad thing was gone. Pretty lights were here. Why did he need anything else? Deep within himself, he felt a stirring. Something foreign. Something bad. Something fun.

The tree had given up much to create him. For that, he was grateful, and never went near. It had nothing to do with the fact that she could unmake him with a thought. Did trees think? That might be an interesting avenue of study later. But for now, he had his toys. He had been captured in his first wanderings, captured by those prissy ponies, those puling, pasty-faced, pathetic little ungulates, and taken to their leaders. Some kind of winged unicorn, he didn't know. He remembered very little at the time, but he did remember the escape. Someone caused a disturbance, he broke out of his chains, and he slaughtered every. Last. One. Except for Sunbutt and Moonbutt.

And here they were now! What a nice surprise. Not that it was a surprise, they had been attacking pretty regularly over the past few months. Or years. Or decades. Whatever. The point was that they were boring him, and Oooh! What are those shiny things? Heh, they thought they could...wait a second. He couldn't move. He couldn't see. He couldn't even snap his fingers like any self-respecting villain. Oh, the horror!

The equinity! The irony! He'd spent all his life throwing stars with his magic, demonstrating his control over even the sun and moon. Now, he was a rock. He was an iiiiiiiisland! Oh boy. This was going to be a loooooooooooooooooooong petrification.