Alicorn Stories

Neither pony could remember a time when they had not run. By hoof and wing, they circled the globe endlessly, fleeing each other as fast as they could carry themselves. If they had been asked, had they stopped to consider it, they might each have concluded that they had coalesced on the wing, already tearing across the sky at many times the speed of sound. And from that very first moment, they had been filled with the knowledge that they they were being pursued, and that to be caught was death. Fear suffused their entire beings, until all that was left was Run. Flee. Escape.

Fear was their existence. Fear, flight, and the certainty of doom should they falter. No questions were asked, and no explanations were necessary; all they were was fear. For untold centuries, they fled each other, so that the far off, rippling roar of their passage across the skies became a familiar and comforting daily constant to those creatures that lived beneath them. And so, the world balanced perfectly on the fulcrum of their fear, and was maintained in Harmony.

One day, many centuries ago and many centuries since the beginning, a mischievous spirit stood on the land below and craned his neck to watch the nightly passage overhead. He stared long, and carefully, and slowly a wicked smile spread across his face. He reached upward with his hand, reached even further with his mind, and SNAP! With the click of his fingers, he made a tiny seed, and planted it in the mind fleeing overhead in terror.

The seed germinated and blossomed in short order, and it was something entirely new to the world, and entirely astounding and momentous: doubt spread across the pony's mind. For the first time in the history of the world, a pony asked a question. For the first time in the history of the world, one of the ponies overhead slowed, and came to a stop. And she waited.

For half a day, she waited and watched, and the moon hung over her head. When they sun crested the horizon, her eyes grew enormous in astonishment and fright. Never before had she seen such light; she was certain that she would evaporate into nothingness in the face of it, and so she nearly resumed her terrified flight. Doubt, though, whispered curiosity and questions into her ear, and she knew that it would never leave her if she ran. And so, trembling faintly, she stood her ground and waited, expecting at any moment to be seared away by the terrible light.

The other pony, meanwhile, raced ever onward, her eyes rolling wildly back to watch for the doom she knew followed her. Never had she had to concern herself with what was before her—it was open, endless sky, waiting for her arrival. It was only a chance glance that showed her the deepest, darkest shadow she had ever seen, directly in front of her. She back-winged furiously, shedding speed in utter desperation, for she knew that the impenetrable column of inky blackness before her would swallow her whole and leave no trace that she had ever existed. But she had started too late. She squeezed her eyes shut and slid into the dark.

The light subsided suddenly, and the waiting pony opened her eyes and carefully came unbraced. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Before her in the air, another pony hung from slowly beating wings, staring back at her with a matching open mouth. She glanced down at her hooves, then over at those of her counterpart. Then she reached up and felt at her forehead while staring at the long, graceful horn sprouting from the other pony's head, and watched as the light pony did the same. Finally, tentatively, she reached out a hoof, and her action was mirrored.

The two ponies who would in later centuries call themselves Princesses touched. First one hoof, then the other, and then a clumsy, unsure embrace in the strange twilight. Above them, the stilled moon hung in front of the unmoving sun in the world's first eclipse. Below them, the first Harmony disintegrated, and Chaos began its reign.