I stand in the middle of the octagram, a book in my magical aura as I check on the lines for the last time. I’m in the secret room of my tower that only I’m aware off, so I don’t have to worry about someone disturbing me.
After I’m sure everything is set and ready, and the octagram is just waiting for me to power it, I float the book aside, placing it on the table in the far corner of the room. I really should put it on the shelf where it belong, but I just can’t care less about it right now.
I start weaving the spell, and as I do so, the lines of the octagram are starting to emit light, first weakly, but getting brighter by a second. As I draw upon the energy contained within the power stones on the edges, I enter the second phase of the spell.
Runes - tens, hundreds of them - start appearing from thin air in arcs and full circles. I now pay no heed to what is happening, for all of my concentration is focused on the spell matrix.
My mind is weary from the mental strain I put on it, but I’m already at the third, finishing phase of the spell. I reach far, far away and draw upon the powers of the sun itself. I wonder, will she even notice? It’s barely one billionth of the sun's energy after all.
As I put the last of the spell together, the runes and the octagram itself flash for a second, and after that their color is no longer that of an ethereal elements, but rather that of a flame.
The corners of my lips tug up in a smirk and I black out.
~~~
I feel as thought there’s nothing around me. Some small part of me muses as to what this feeling might be. Is this the experience Shetold about? Although, I don’t care. I feel like it all doesn’t matter now. Why?
I feel not my hooves, my horn... my body as a whole, but that doesn’t matter either. My subconsciousness tells me as thought it’s better this way. Why?
I know neither pain nor care, as my mind seems to be content to remain like this forever. Why?
I focus my thoughts, and then open my eyes sharply. Only after the fact do I realise that they never were closed for once. All around me is fire, ever changing in it’s never ending dance, but I feel neither scorching heat that I should, nor fear for being surrounded with flames. It’s all as it’s supposed to be. I don’t have to worry, no more. I just have to give myself into the fire. Surrender what I was, what I am, and what I could’ve become. Why?
It will all be good then. I will not have to worry about being myself. About constantly keeping up the mask. I can just fade away then and not have to think. Not have to plan. Not have to worry.
But... who am I? The haze over my mind starts to dissolve slowly as I think on.
I am but a mere pony in the endless rivers of time. A single soul, a tiny flicker of a candle among millions upon millions of others. No matter what I do, or try to do, it all makes no difference for the universe, for it’s not something a mortal creature can affect.
No. Those are not my thoughts, and never will they be. I have achieved a great many things, especially considering my age. I have a great life that I can be proud of, and I have all intentions to hit it off even higher. Everypony’s life matter, as we all shape what’s to come. We may be mortal, but we all believe we can change something. That every little thing we do affects what is around us. I will not give in so easily.
Why. Flames are raging all around me now, taking various shapes and figures, then dispersing back into just flames. My mind remains as serene and tranquil as I may ever hope for it to be.
Because we are small. Insignificant. Weak. Proud. It’s in our nature as mortals to strive for being the best we can be, to leave a mark of ourselves in the world, to hope for the best when there’s nothing but bad things all around us. I wouldn’t be what I am if not for this. If not for my nature.
Why. The flames are growing by a second, but I that’s unimportant. It doesn’t matter what they seem, they pose no harm.
I want to protect what I hold dear. I don’t want to lose anyone, or anything. I need to be strong for it. It’s just in my nature as well. This may be our weakness, but in this lies our strength as well. We are not living because we have to. We live because we want to. We live, so that someone else has the reason to.
Why. The flames are just a wall of fire now, absolutely unmoving.
Because it’s important to us. It’s what our soul, our very being compels us to. Because we want to live, and we want to create. We want to see what good will rise from what we sow, and what bad. We want to convince at least ourselves that we do is worth something. That what we are is worth something.
Why.
Because we want to show it into the face of immortals, to prove that you can change the flow of things. To prove you wrong.
Lies. All you said is a lie. The voice is coming from all directions at once. I have no time to react as I feel the pain far greater than anything I felt to the date. I didn’t expect to live through that, but I was proved wrong.
Speak truth now, or perish. I hear as I realise I can think straight once more.
But it was… I feel pain raising once again, this time without any intention to stop. ...Lie! Yes... it is true, what I said is not what I aim for. Not what I believe in. This face is just too natural after all this years.
What I truly wish for… The fire starts moving again. I hear laughter. Well, I think I can hear laughter. That doesn’t matter. What matters, is what will happen next. I can only await for the decision now.
Very well then, mortal(pony). My name is... The flames rush all at once permeating me to the very core of my soul. No sound can be heard as I scream.