They sing a tale of Discord; a tale so old the stars whisper it. The stars he made. The world he made. But what if that story can't be found and Celestia's mouth is closed on the matter? Twilight needs the story for the future generations, and the only way she seems to be able to get is by talking to the Hippocampi, reclusive beings. It is said that their magic is so potent it could blow out the sun if they're angered. It is said many things, but few know what's true in worlds of mischief and mayhem.