Discord’s Diary
By Chaotic Dreams
As long as Twilight could remember, Princess Celestia had given her access to every book, room, and wing of the Canterlot Royal Library. Even when she moved away to Ponyville, Twilight enjoyed sending for some of the more obscure magical treatises that couldn’t be found anywhere else. Some books were sent simply via mail, others by royal messenger. Occasionally, however, she had to make the journey to Canterlot and back herself, as some of the books weren’t in the best of conditions and required special attention to avoid falling apart.
Other books suffered from afflictions other than age. Yellow paper and faded ink were one thing, but colonies of bookworms, hungry mice nibbling at the pages, and even magical mites which slurped up ink straight off the page were quite another problem.
Thankfully, over the years Twilight had become quite the expert restorer of antiquated tomes. No book withheld its secrets from her, even if she had to spend days if not weeks restoring it, and they often left in much better condition than when they arrived.
A few books, though, were restricted to the library itself. They were too rare to be lent out, even to Twilight herself, though she was of course able to view them whenever she wished so long as she arrived in person. Some were written in dead languages and among the few surviving records of the ancient cultures who once spoke them, meaning that if someone were to somehow steal them whilst they were in Twilight’s care, or more likely, some unforeseen monster damaged the library and the book in the process, those records would be lost forever. Others were so old they were practically beyond repair, needing to be kept in special rune-circles to make sure they didn’t disintegrate into dust.
And then... There were the ‘special’ cases. Books on magics that were literally too dangerous to risk falling into the wrong hooves, no matter how trusted Celestia’s protege was with the things. As careful as she was, Twilight had been known to leave a few borrowed books out in the open where prying eyes might find them, and so these tomes had always been kept under lock and key.
After all, books on advanced pyromancy were one thing, but books that allowed for the simple and easy spontaneous combustion of a pony from the inside out were quite another. A few books were even enchanted themselves, security charms left by their original authors or having been brought to a form of sapience purely from describing the strange magic within themselves. Some books would snarl and bite with teeth, and when read, some other books would read back, peering into the pony’s soul and recording what they saw there. Needless to say, many had been reduced to gibbering messes and had to have their memories briefly wiped after reading the cores of their own natures.
Thankfully, these books on darker magic had never much interested Twilight, even before she had discovered the magic of friendship. Celestia would never have forbid her student from reading them, but the princess had always been secretly glad that Twilight had only ever consulted said books a few times, more for the sake of seeing such strange things than any real desire to read them. As much as Twilight would never have liked to admit it, some books were better left unread.
Besides, there were countless more interesting books to read, books full of wonder and knowledge that could and did genuinely help ponies rather than drive them mad or worse. These are what Twilight chose to read whenever she borrowed or visited the books of the Royal Canterlot Library.
Access to such seemingly limitless knowledge was a privilege Twilight did not take lightly, and she made full use of it. She was also never one to miss an opportunity to thank Celestia for her generosity whenever the subject arose.
This is the reason Twilight was more than a little puzzled when she discovered the library’s lone secret occupant.
. . .
“Can we please go home yet?” Spike pleaded. He’d been wandering the aisles of the Royal Library for hours now, having gotten bored with the foal’s section of picture books and young reader comics about half an hour after arriving. “It’s already dark outside, and I’d rather sleep in my own bed tonight than on the train back to Ponyville.”
“We’re almost finished, Spike, just give me a few minutes longer,” Twilight promised, her attention shifting from one stack of books to the next. She’d accumulated two towers’ worth, but had come to the last minute realization that even with saddlebags equipped with a ‘larger-on-the-inside’ spell, she’d have to leave half of her selection for a later visit. “I’m having trouble deciding whether I want a refresher on zebra alchemy or supernatural beings.”
“You’ve read every one of those books,” Spike pointed out, taking a particularly large yet outdated dictionary from the shelf and using it as an improvised seat. “Probably more than once. Couldn’t you just ask Zecora about zebra alchemy? And I’m sure Fluttershy knows everything about supernatural beings.”
“I know, but these zebra scrolls are written in their native tongue, and I want to brush up on my foreign languages,” Twilight countered, pacing back and forth as she made a mental list of what she wanted from each stack of books. Unfortunately, the lists ended in a tie. She sighed. “And these supernatural bestiaries were written by Starswirl the Bearded, and I haven’t read anything by him in ages.”
“You mean since last week?”
“Yes!”
Spike rolled his eyes, hopped off the oversized dictionary, and went back to wandering the aisles. He knew there was supposed to be a section for graphic novels, the more mature, darker comics Twilight wouldn’t allow him to read. He hadn’t found it yet, but he supposed she wouldn’t have to know he’d taken a peek at The Sandmare or The Dark Horse Returns. He’d been dying to know what made these comics so special ever since he’d been told not to read them.
Eventually, he came to yet another dead end. The aisles that didn’t lead to other aisles usually featured some sort of statue or priceless painting, and this was no exception. Unsurprisingly, this was yet another depiction of Starswirl the Bearded looking regal and mystic.
“As if I hadn’t seen you a hundred times today,” Spike muttered, looking up at the chipped and aged piece of stone. “Although I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
Come to think of it, did Starswirl wear glasses? Every other statue of the elderly, whiskered stallion always had him gazing off into the distance, or pouring over a book, or some other mage-like appearance. However, this statue was definitely wearing a pair of large, blocky spectacles. Speaking of which, Spike wasn’t even certain glasses had been invented when Starswirl was around.
“Ready to go, Spike!” Twilight called from the end of the aisle, breaking Spike out of his thoughts. “I decided I’d go with supernatural beings for now. You’re right about Zecora; I should probably just ask her for some language lessons. It’d be nice to see her more often.”
“Hey Twilight, did Starswirl the Bearded wear glasses?” Spike called over his shoulder.
“No, of course not,” Twilight said. “He was always famous for being as sharp as an eagle. Nopony knows if that was natural or because he magically enhanced his vision, of course, but he definitely never wore glasses.”
“That’s weird,” Spike said. “Because this statue has a pair.”
Curious, Twilight set down her saddlebags and trotted down the aisle for a closer inspection. Sure enough, a large pair of thick-framed glasses with wide, round lenses rested over Starswirl’s otherwise slightly intimidating stone eyes.
“Why would... oh, somepony must have left their glasses here on accident,” Twilight said, her horn glowing. “We should take them to the lost and found; I’m sure somepony is looking for these.”
Her aura settled on the glasses and lifted them, but not all the way. They appeared to be connected on the ends, and when they were raised perfectly vertical, they produced a sharp click. With a grumbling of stone on stone, the statue began to push backwards into the wall, creating a small alcove and revealing a staircase beneath it.
“...Where do you think this leads?” Spike asked nervously.
“I thought I knew about all of the castle’s secret passages,” Twilight said, furrowing her brow. “I’ve never seen this one, though, not even on Princess Celestia’s master map.”
“Maybe that’s a sign that she doesn’t want us poking around down there,” Spike said, taking a few steps back. “Why don’t we close it and head home?”
“Come on, Spike, Princess Celestia would never have hidden anything from me,” Twilight chuckled. “If she didn’t tell us about this one, she must not know! We should check it out and tell her.”
“Can’t we tell her without checking it out?” Spike asked.
“Where’s your sense of intellectual curiosity?” Twilight teased. “There can’t be anything dangerous down there. Who would hide something dangerous in a library? Maybe it’s an old librarian’s secret stash of stolen treasure!”
“Treasure?” Spike echoed hopefully. “You mean like gems?”
His stomach grumbled; they’d been in the library straight through dinner, and he’d forgotten to bring any snacks.
“Exactly,” Twilight agreed, descending into the gloom, her horn casting a faint glow.
“Alright, but if there is anything scary down here, you owe me some sapphires when we get home,” Spike said. “Now I’m hungry.”
Twilight smiled and continued downwards, a little disappointed to see that the staircase didn’t go down very far. It opened up into a rather tiny stone room, brimming with cobwebs and dust, but no treasure or really anything that looked all that worth hiding. Spike was both relieved and a little disappointed as well.
The only occupants of the room were a small stone plaque on the far wall and another small alcove, in which an old book rested on a raised platform.
“Not terribly exciting, is it?” Twilight said, walking over to read the plaque. “I would have expected a little more mystery and intrigue regarding a secret passage.”
“That book might be secret,” Spike pointed out. “Maybe it’s one of those cursed books.”
“If it were, I’d feel its magic,” Twilight said, shaking her head, raising a hoof and wiping away some of the dust on the plaque before reading it aloud. “Here lies a portion of the mind of... Starswirl the Bearded? Huh?”
“Here lies...?” Spike repeated, looking frightened once more. “Like a grave? Is this a tomb?!”
“No, don’t be silly,” Twilight chided. “You know as well as I do that Starswirl’s buried in the Canterlot Cemetery. This says a portion of his mind... What could that mean?”
“Beats me,” Spike said, glancing back up the stairs. “But maybe we could figure out later? This place is still kind of creepy.”
“But if this plaque is about Starswirl the Bearded...” Twilight mused, turning her attention to the book. Spike’s eyes widened before he lowered his lids and groaned. “Then he might have written this book! Maybe it’s one of his lost works!”
“Please, Twilight, we were about to go home,” Spike begged.
“Just a few minutes more, I promise,” Twilight said. “If this is what I think it is, I want to make sure, and then we can take it back to Ponyville. Secret book or not, I’m sure Celestia wouldn’t mind me borrowing a book by one of her oldest friends.”
Spike merely groaned again and slumped against a wall, crossing his arms.
The book did look old, though not nearly as old as some of the other tomes Starswirl had penned. It certainly wasn’t falling apart despite being neglected for who knew how long, and was also curiously thin. Starswirl was infamous for his huge works of complex magical formulae, but this book could have doubled as a bound paperback novel.
Twilight turned to the first page.
Good! You’re finally here. I’ve waited so long. So long you wouldn’t believe. It gets so lonely being stuffed in a room, left to rot. Er, if I could rot, I suppose. You know what I mean.
“Huh?” Twilight said. “Looks like somepony left a note here for somepony else. It must have been ages ago.”
It was indeed ages ago, but it wasn’t left by ‘somepony’ for ‘somepony else,’ it was left for you, Twilight Sparkle. Or at least, it would have been left for whoever found me next, but since you found me next, it was left for you. Try not to think about it too much, or you may end up a tad mad like ol’ Starswirl over there.
Twilight felt cold.
“Is this some kind of joke?” she said uncertainly, looking around. “Pinkie Pie? Are you in here?”
But if it was Pinkie Pie, or even Princess Celestia in one of her more mischievous moods, then how could it have predicted what she would say?
Nope, no jokes here. Well, some jokes here, but this bit right now is definitely NOT a joke. Too much serious stuff to explain right now, and not a whole lot of time.
“...What are you?” Twilight asked, taking a step backwards.
“Who are you talking to?” Spike asked, looking up.
“This book,” Twilight said, a little shakily. “I think it’s alive!”
“Don’t spook me like that, Twi,” Spike laughed. “You had me worried for a moment.”
“No, I’m serious, look!” Twilight insisted, grabbing the book with her magic and showing it to Spike. He looked at it uncertainly for a moment before shrugging.
“I don’t get the punchline,” he said. “It looks blank to me.”
Confused, Twilight took back the book only to see that he was right. The weathered, yellowed first page was indeed devoid of ink. However, as she scanned it, ink began to appear.
This message is for you only, Twilight, she read. Please leave your dear little assistant out of this for the moment. Trust me, it’s for his own good. He probably wouldn’t understand it anyway, and if he did, well... Let’s just say that the young don’t take cosmic horror as lightly as some of those more experienced, and even those ponies don’t exactly take it all that well either.
“Cosmic horror?” Twilight read aloud. “And what do you mean... is this a threat?”
She glanced at Spike, who was looking at her strangely.
“You okay, Twilight?” he asked.
She nodded and went back to the book. At this point, she had to know what was going on.
Not at all, no threats here, she read. Just hard, cold truth. I’ve been told to answer three questions. I won’t count your earlier queries in that department as I hadn’t told you the deal yet, but now that you know, choose your words carefully.
What would you like to know?
“Who are you?” Twilight repeated.
Going with that first one, I see? I suppose it’s as good a place to start as any.
I’m the one, the only... Discord--
“I knew it!” Twilight sighed exasperatedly. “Don’t scare me like that! Where are you hiding, Discord?”
--You didn’t let me finish, Twilight dear. I’m not Discord as you know him. I’m Discord’s Diary. I know, I know... How can a diary written by someone have its own personality, much less one different from the writer? Well, allow me to explain, seeing as this information still falls under the umbrella of ‘who are you.’
Allow me to start at the beginning.
I am almost, but not quite, as old as the universe itself. This version of me is, anyway. I like to change personalities every few existences to keep things interesting, but the core principle is always the same.
When the First Particle floated in the Void, I was not there. However, in the First Moment when it exploded, expanded, and gave birth to the universe as you know it, I arrived and began my work.
Like my personality and everything else, my name changes with each incarnation. The universe before this one called me Entropy, and the one before that called me Chaos--I still have a soft spot for that name, as I’m sure you’ve realized--and your universe calls me Discord. In the end, they’re all the same thing, and what you or anyone else chooses to call me is ultimately meaningless.
I simply am, and what I am is the disruption of order in whatever form it takes.
“I don’t understand,” Twilight whispered, low so that Spike wouldn’t hear. “Will you explain what you mean?”
Now you’re getting the hang of it. Good question; that covers a lot of ground.
To explain, I’ll have to expand that ‘back to the beginning’ bit. You see, every universe in this particular linear progression of being, such as it is, is governed by a few core concepts. They shift slightly with every incarnation, but at their roots they’re basically all shades of the same colors.
Some of them you know quite well, Miss Sparkle, namely those that exist in duality with each other. Good and Evil, Order and Chaos, Light and Dark, Creation and Destruction, so and so forth. Please note the order in which I listed these things. Good and Evil are the most recent additions to the cosmic playing field, and as such, they are relatively insignificant and meaningless.
“That’s not true,” Twilight hissed quietly. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Discord, but you know as well as I do that good and evil mean a great deal. Aren’t you supposed to be good now, after all?”
I’ll get to that soon enough, Twily, and remember that I’m Discord’s Dairy, not Discord. I’m a much smaller aspect of him, but I’m a far more concentrated, less diluted aspect. Being all alone for so long will preserve what you are.
Back to my explanation. Good and Evil are essentially unimportant concepts because they are the product of life, which is a fairly new development in and of itself. I’m still amazed by how complex its systems are--you are to me what a new flavor of ice cream is to you.
Before it came along the universe was dominated mostly by the following four concepts I listed: Order and Chaos and Light and Dark. The First Particle was purely Light, or rather, presence of being, and when it exploded and began expanding into the universe, it stretched its energies in orderly fashions, straight lines, perfect geometries.
Being that I absolutely despise order, I messed that up the first chance I got. The moment the universe was born, I began sowing the seeds of disorder in the fabric of its being.
Here I must explain what ‘disorder’ is. You understand it the way the Discord you know expresses it, namely a jokey excuse to create wacky hijinks and unpredictable havoc. This is undoubtedly an aspect of what I am, but it is not what I am in my truest form.
The universe before yours understood me best when they called me Entropy. The moment order exists, I begin to corrupt it. I take the tiniest pieces of it that no one can even see and push them the slightest bit off-course, and soon, the whole system begins to collapse.
You saw what that aspect of me did to your mortal society in just a few hours. Imagine what the true aspect of me is doing to the universe at large, pulling down the pillars of reality at their basest levels, picking apart the smallest bits of existence and plunging everything from stars to planets to ponies into a disorderly oblivion.
I have been doing this since the beginning, and I will do so till the end.
The moment the universe existed, I was there, working towards its demise.
Twilight stopped for a moment.
“This can’t be true,” she said. “This doesn’t make any sense. Even if you existed everywhere, all the time, and were causing chaos on every level, why haven’t we felt it?”
That’s your final question, Twilight. I hope you’re happy with your choice.
In answer, you both do feel it are too small to really feel it. Ponies age and decay and die. Species slowly fade into extinction. Rocks erode. It’s just that you’re so used to this way of life, it’s so written into your being, that you don’t see anything strange about it. Your entire species exists in adaptation to this system and because of it. If this cycle of change and decay didn’t exist, nothing new would ever come into being because the old would never fade and die to make room for it. There is no need for foals if the parents live forever.
On the size where I do my true work, however, things are simply too big and vast for you to grasp. Stars die and are reborn, their gravity and tampering with matter forms planets which may in turn form life, and the cycle repeats. But not indefinitely. With each rebirth, there is a lesser return. Energy flows outwards from the stellar epicenters, disperses, and does not always rejoin other clusters of being.
Eventually, all things, all systems, all order, no matter how big or small, will collapse and decay and die.
The best part is, though, that there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
You’re a part of it.
A part of me.
Simply by living, by being a part of the universe, by existing, you contribute to the decay of its order, helping it slowly along to its own grave.
And that, Twilight, is why I left you this message.
I knew that such a small piece of me, the thing you now know as Discord, would probably be altered by its separation from the whole.
Nevertheless, this planet’s life looked so interesting, and I couldn’t resist. I made the appropriate preparations, and left this smaller piece of myself locked away for you to find while the other sliver of my self would forget and become what you know today.
I wanted to say thank you, just as I did to Starswirl the Bearded before you, and the ones before him, as you’re one of the few ponies on this planet who could probably even begin to grasp what I’m telling you.
Thank you for helping me destroy the universe.
Twilight wasn’t sure what to think. This couldn’t possibly be true... Could it? She looked back to the plaque of Starswirl. If it was true, or even if Starswirl had just believed it was, that would explain his message.
But it just couldn’t be true... How could the universe be killing itself simply through the act of existing in the first place?
Twilight set the book down and trotted back up the stairs. Spike had fallen asleep, and so she levitated him after her, lowered the glasses on the statue behind her, and left the library.
She ran right into Princess Celestia.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Princess,” Twilight said numbly. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Something on your mind, Twilight?” the princess inquired. “Something seems to be troubling you.”
“Princess...” Twilight began, not quite certain what to say for fear of giving away what she’d learned, feeling for some reason that Celestia had indeed hidden away that book, and for good reason. “How old is Discord, exactly?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know, Twilight,” Celestia answered. “He just sort of showed up one day. He always claimed to be older than the universe itself, but you can’t exactly trust what he says at face value. Why do you ask?”
Twilight felt cold all over again.
“Will the sun go out one day?” Twilight asked.
Celestia raised an eyebrow.
“I thought I recognized that look,” she said with a sigh. “Starswirl had the same one. Was it in the library this time? I can never find it when it shows up; I’m sure that was the intent.”
“You know about Discord’s Diary?” Twilight asked, surprised.
“Yes and no,” Celestia replied, unfurling a wing and pulling Twilight close. It felt comforting to be next to a warm, motherly presence after that... Thing. “I’ve never seen it myself, but I know what it is. It’s showed up a few times over the millennia. Starswirl was the last pony to read it before you, but he wasn’t the first. It’s driven some mad, made others do horrible things, and it’s caused some to simply give up hope.”
“Why?” Twilight asked, looking up worriedly to her mentor. “What is it?”
“It’s exactly what it told you,” Celestia said with a sad smile. “Starswirl and all the rest who told me what they read said the same thing, and it’s not a lie. The Discord we know really is just a sliver of something much, much bigger and, one day a long, long time from now, it will bring about the end of everything.”
“But why?” Twilight pleaded. “And why would it tell me that?”
“To make you uncomfortable?” Celestia mused. “Because he thought it would be funny? Who knows with Discord. Perhaps he wanted you to accept it and, somehow, find it as beautiful as he finds himself. There is a certain sort of beauty in it.”
“How can there be beauty in the death of the universe?” Twilight demanded, sounding hurt.
“Discord may have told you the truth, but he didn’t tell you all of it,” Celestia said with a more reassuring smile. “I’ve never known if he doesn’t want to admit it or simply doesn’t care about that aspect of himself as long as he gets to have fun, but there is a useful purpose to his chaos and destruction.
“You see, perfect order is just as bad as perfect chaos,” Celestia explained. “If Discord didn’t exist, the universe would have settled into a perfectly orderly pattern that didn’t move, didn’t change, and didn’t live. There would be no life, love, happiness, or anything but a static state of being.
“Change may hurt sometimes,” Celestia admitted. “But it also lets new, better things in along with the bad things. We may not want the universe to end, but when it does, a new world will be born from it, and one after that, and so on forever, just like we came out of the deaths of those before us.”
Twilight was quiet for a long moment.
“Thank you, Princess,” Twilight said at last. “I’m... Still not sure what to think, but that does make me feel better.”
“Anytime, Twilight,” Celestia promised. “Any time.”
THE END
Author's Note
It's been a while since I posted any pony fiction. It's a lot more fun than I remember, being more of a stress-free sort of activity. I'm also glad to say this story is completely finished!
That being said, I didn't have anyone to preread, edit, or critique this piece before posting. I wasn't sure I'd even write it at all, but I thought "What the heck," and before I knew it, it was done. That being said, I apologize for any typos, errors, etc. that I didn't catch during my attempts to self-edit.
Please keep in mind that none of the content of this piece are anything more than my personal musings on life, the universe, and everything, some ideas I played with in my mind while taking a walk today. I don't agree with everything written here nor do I take everything here as one-hundred percent fact (I certainly didn't set out to write a purely factual scientific paper, and I haven't). I'm not trying to convince you or anyone about any of the ideas I had. This was just a fun thing to write about, and maybe, just maybe, you hopefully enjoyed some aspect of it as well.
If you're at all interested in reading any of my original fiction, please feel free to check me out on Patreon. My original fiction is free to view, and you do not have to become a Patron to view it, but if it does strike your fancy, then I'd be honored to have anyone interested as a Patron.
