The Journal of Rising Dawn

by Professor_Rising_Dawn

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Anthology, Drama, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 5478

Stories and Journal entries from the life of Rising Dawn

Take a look into the life and loves of Rising Dawn. An Alicorn from Equis and the TBS universe, Dawn is often overlooked in his era of history with his frequent lovers, and issues with drug abuse.

Within this story you will see his life through his own eyes, experience his love for yourself and feel more in connection with an OC who hasn’t had the most glamorous life. Some chapters are diary entries, others are poems written by the Dark horse himself, still others are biographical stories told as if we were watching it from afar.

Note: Feel free to add questions or comments and share your feedback! Also if you have a prompt or idea you’d like me to try send it too! Often these entries get filled out with prints and premises!

Published 2019-06-10 20:40:01 UTC
Last updated 2019-06-10 20:40:01 UTC

10/31/1848 - The Costume

”Would you please be patient!”

Rising stood behind the tall and ornate privacy screen which sat in the corner of his room. He’d been struggling with his costume for the last 20 minutes and he could hear Jetstream getting annoyed.

“If I knew it’d take you this long just to get dressed, I’d have met you there!” He called from the other side of the screen. Jet was sitting on Rising’s plush king size bed in his own costume, looking at the divider with bored irritation. The room was lit with beautiful oil lamps on either side of the room, but it was still quite a low light.

It was cool and the two of them would be going to a party that night, maybe even to the carnival if they could gather enough friends. The sun had set a few minutes ago, and soon they’d be late.

Jet’s costume was already pristine, mostly because he was wearing his old air force uniform. With practice he could be dressed in five minutes, and look absolutely stunning. Practice does make perfect.

The same could not be said for Dawn however, whose costume had been fighting him the last twenty minutes. Jet huffed with impatience.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help?”

Dawn too sighed in ardent frustration and embarrassment and called out, “Just come help me already!”. When Jet got up off the bed with a fwump sound and came around the corner, he had to stifle a laugh.

With his new wings, Dawn was not accustomed to getting dressed, and in addition to being unfamiliar with his new limbs, he also had to thread them through the special bat wing sleeves of his special vampire costume. This, in combination with his own clumsiness and a few pre-Halloween shots, made it particularly difficult for him to get dressed.

He radiated frustration as the costume lay stuck, half on, and poking out in all directions. “Please just help me get it on...” he said with a voice that seemed almost small.

No wonder he’d been occupied so long.

Jet was no expert in costumes, but he was familiar with wings, and so with a few tugs here and there he was able to get the costume back in working order in a minute or two.

“There you go, all dressed, and handsome as always!” Jet proclaimed, standing back and admiring his handiwork.

With his costume finally on properly he sat and looked in the mirror. He had to admit that the costume was well made, a dark blue jacket went well with his coat and mane, and the layers did wonders with his figure.

Even the small gold embroidery looked well made, as it should for the amount he paid for it.

The most important parts of his costume though were the wings, an enchanted sleeve which when properly worn created a powerful illusion magic, turning his Alicorn wings, into vampire ones.

He stood and turned around, still looking in the mirror.

“Does it look alright Jet?” He asked fretting again.

Jet rolled his eyes and sighed. “Yes you look fine, now let’s go!” He said exasperated, and grabbing Rising’s wing. “We’re going to be late!”

Rising reluctantly allowed himself to be dragged from the flat to the party.

10/31/1851 - Not the Spiders

“It can’t possibly be that scary” Rising said to himself quietly as he walked to the beginning of the haunted house. They’d paid for their entrance fee a few minutes ago, but he stood frozen in front of the door, unable to get the courage to enter.

“Come on Dawn!” Jet said tugging on Rising’s wing impatiently. It seemed like he’d been doing it all evening. “Are you going to chicken out on me after we’ve gotten this far?” He asked with a huff.

It was exactly the same thing that had happened last year. Dawn worked himself up too much and Jet had to go alone, while he sat sheepishly at the exit, shivering at the screams from inside.

“No!” Rising bit back, but he wasn’t so sure. He’d been on dozens of expeditions with Compass which were surely scarier, but he was always able to push through because he’d have the promise of a new artifact, or bit of history knowledge under his hoof. This just seemed silly, and terrifying to go for no reason.

Jet leaned in by Rising’s ear and whispered, as if reading his mind, “if you can make it through, we’ll have some fun when we get home” he said, suggesting more than just a board game and some drinks like usual.

Dawn took a deep breath and nodded, the goal in his mind focusing his courage in one spot. “Ok, let’s go”

The carnival worker who had been exasperatedly waiting for them opened the door and Jet led Dawn into the winding halls.

Dawn closed his eyes and held Jet’s wing as they walked through the halls. The air seemed damp, and the hollowness of the walls implied they weren’t sturdily made. There were quiet screams of fright all around and in nearly every direction.

All of a sudden, he stubbed his hoof on a lifted board. He opened his eyes for a second to check it for damages, and found one of the actors directly in front of him with a mean looking growl which startled the daylights out of him and forced out a small squeak of surprise.

Jet, who had seemed unimpressed thus far began to laugh, but quieted when Dawn sent him a hurt look. They continued through the maze of walkways, every so often an actor would jump out, or sneak up on them and shriek.

Dawn jumped. Every. Single. Time. and Jet just tried to stifle his laughter, seemingly unaffected by the situation. When the house theme ended, black curtains covered the next section.

As soon as Rising laid eyes on the next room he froze and began to shiver uncontrollably. He couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, and could barely breath.

When Jet looked through, he too knew what was wrong, attempting to contact a staff member.

Before the two of them was a room completely covered with spider webs and spider illusions moving about, so dense there was no possible way for them to not touch a web or two.

With Dawn in a terrified stupor, clinging to Jet for dear life, the two of them were led out of the house early through the emergency exits.

9/21/1857 - The Theory of Teaching

September 21, 1857

Quite often I seem to find myself in situations that I have never before experienced. In times like these I tread in new waters, searching for new solutions to problems I had never known and struggling to stay afloat.

Today happens to be one of those times.

Though I have always quite enjoyed my time as an instructor of magic and the history of such, I’ve often encountered difficult students. Some are mentally challenged, some monetarily. Many have no motivation or work ethic. However my charge this time is different. His struggles are not of his own misgivings but of body.

I met Stardust as a young unicorn colt in the nearby village. I’m sure I’ve written about him before now, and yet I cannot place where that may be.

In any case, Star is quite a bright young lad, he works hard, does his best, and expects to make mistakes. His only drawback that keeps him from the glory I can see so clearly on his horizon is the fact that he cannot. See I mean. As long as I’ve known him, he’s been as blind as a bat, and has recently taken to wearing a sparkling band on his head to attract less attention to his dull eyes I expect.

Though this would normally be little trouble for an adept unicorn, albeit inconvenient and disappointing, it is far easier for a skilled unicorn to make their way without sight then to try and learn it without sight to begin with.

Thus, I have become his tutor, both out of courtesy for his family and a desire for my own research into sightless spells. Just as nonverbal spells can be complicated and difficult to understand, spells without sight can be equally so. It’s as difficult to learn magic without sight as it is to learn verbal spells deaf. Much of the experience is guess work, trial and error.

I suppose then that may be why I can admire Stardust with such fervor. The struggles and failures that are an integral part of his learning process into magic would despair even many of the most determined unicorns, and yet he holds his head high and continues to learn with determination and passion.

When we met today for our first formal lesson I had had time to get a bit of research under my bridle. We exchanged pleasantries and made our way to my study. It was a dark room lit by various candles, though that didn’t bother Star. Two apples sat on my desk, clean and shiny.

I heard a sniff and the beginnings of a sneeze behind me and I turned to see stardust attempting very hard to prevent an explosive sneeze.

“Is everything alright?” I asked softly pulling up a seat and guiding the small pony to the chair.

He seemed bashful at my comment and I regretted mentioning anything, however he responded honestly, “it’s awfully dusty in here...”

I felt like hitting myself. I have no allergies or sensitivity to dust, and so my study often gathers layers of dust. I’ve made sure to arrange a thorough cleaning in the future.

“Quite sorry young Star, I haven’t been taking particular care of this room. I assure you for our next lesson it will be much cleaner.” I told him as I prepared my lesson.

Unlike I’d normally teach, there was no blackboard to use as it would’ve been virtually useless to us. Instead I made note to keep a small braille book of spells which I’d acquired at a relatively hefty price due to their rarity and infrequent use.

“I’ve got a book for you to use as we learn and I’d like you to read from it.”

Star seemed about to protest and so I continued, “it is in braille so you should be able to rest it with relative ease. If you don’t already know to read braille I can easily add that to our lessons.”

When I looked at Star, he seemed to understand and so I levitated one of my apples. “Can you perform any spells at the moment?”

Star nodded but weakly. I suspected then that his spell knowledge might be fabulous but his performance was certainly our current dilemma.

“I think today we’ll start with a levitation spell. I don’t expect you to get it right the first time but I do expect you to try, and don’t stop trying.” I set the apple in his fore-hooves, and levitated the other from the table.

Star nodded quietly, but worry and anxiety flashed over his face. “Take your time, feel the apple, visualize it in your mind, it’s shape, it’s position, everything worth noting. When you’re ready, set it down and try to lift it with your magic.”

It was a while before Stardust moved. I was beginning to think I’d confused him and I was about to clarify the instructions when I could barely see the small movements of the apple in the boy’s hooves.

It was a few minutes where we both sat quietly, him examining the apple, and I watching. He was very careful, moving slowly as if to examine each cell carefully before moving on.

When he finally moved to set the apple back on my desk, I was startled by the sudden movement. “I think I’m ready.” He said quietly, though I caught the hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“Do you know the levitation spell?”

Stardust nodded and with what appeared to be extreme concentration, his horn began to glow and a small orb appeared nearby to the apple, just slightly to the left.

“Move your concentration slightly right.”

The orb shifted and soon the apple was engulfed in a pale blue magic.

This had been more than I’d expected to see and so I made sure to reassure him, “Great job you’re on it!”

Star didn’t seem impressed despite my praise, and he tensed again. The apple rocked slightly, and then the magic disappeared with a swift intake of breath from him. He groaned in frustration and I lent a wing to pat his back gently.

“Keep trying, you’re doing a good job!”

I tried to sound as enthusiastic as I felt but my emotions don’t always come out as passionate as I’ve intended in the past.

We continued this practice for a few hours, and by the end of our session, Star seemed much more lively. I assume it was at least partially because by the end he managed to lift the apple nearly two inches before it plopped down.

As Stardust waved me goodbye, I made sure he had the braille spellbook in his saddlebags with instructions to browse it.

I feel confident in this one. With all my other students, failure usually cripples them. If I thought long and hard, I’d be hard pressed to find a pony more resilient than this one. I can only hope he stays determined, because only them will he become truly great.

-Rising Dawn

5/25/1862 - The Ethereal Library

May 25th, 1862

It has been one week since that day, and consequently one week that I have not written. In my mind it is a sin, for which writing now, in my moment of lucidity, I may repent starting from the beginning.

After my last entry, I fully intended to sleep, however though I tried it would not come to me as I was, now, alone in the large bed I’d acquired for us to share. It seemed cold, sterile, and the thought of it was unbearable. Doing as I have in the past I sent for Lafayette. Jet hated him, and hated when I called to him but I no longer cared.

When he delivered unto me the thing I sought, I descended to the basement, and it’s guest rooms. I could not sleep in ours, not even with my new medication.

I chose the lavender room because it reminded me the least of him, and I buried myself into the plush covers.

It took a while, longer than last time, although I suppose it was because after all this time without it I had become unfamiliar with its application. However once I’d finally finished, it made quick work of me, slowly dragging me away into oblivion.

When I awoke, I was not in the guest room but in a pile of pillows in the corner of a dark room. The pillows were each a different fabric and texture, none of which I ever remembered purchasing. The floor underneath me was dark polished wood, but I could see a carpet a ways away.

Sitting up, I was surprised to not feel the uncomfortable after effects of my nightly ritual, and found upon examination that I was in a vast library, the likes of which I’d never seen in my life.

The bookshelves were all full and seemed heavy, the dark wood matched the floors and each book had a different title, some which were my favorites, and some titles I’d never heard of before. They all seemed aged, though some were in better condition than others.

In addition, Artifacts lined some of the book shelves, breaking the rows up and drawing my attention. Some were common objects, but some artifacts were only rumored to exist.

I stood with eyes wide in wonder, but I did not feel shaky as I would’ve normally, and I became wary. It occurred to me briefly then, that I may be dreaming, and of course I was, for when I looked around the corner where the dark carpeting originated I saw him.

With an old oil lantern lit on a dark wooded side table next to the plush purple couch, Jetstream lay calmly reading, using his small reading glasses which I’d teased him for only days prior.

I didn’t tease him then though. The shock and sheer emotion of seeing my beloved friend and partner alive again in front of me held my tongue down and rendered my legs Inept. I wanted to scream, wanted to shout, but I could do nothing but allow the tears to softly drop down my cheeks in grief and joy and confusion.

When he noticed me only a moment later, he raised his head and smiled, opening his arms to call for my embrace. That movement freed me from my invisible shackles. I’m ashamed to say that I wailed like a foal as I embraced him on the couch, holding him as I had a few hours ago on the beach where he’d left me.

I was so confused and hurt, and happy all at the same time, and he merely continued to hold me, gently rocking and humming the same song I used to sing to Compass when his father beat him. We stayed like that for longer than I can remember, and eventually I fell asleep in his arms.

When I woke again I was in the guest room, just beginning to come down and feeling terribly alone. My mind panicked with grief once again thinking I’d lost Jetstream so soon after getting him back, and I struggled to pump myself with more of my sleep syrum.

I was out, and back in the library once again, no longer frantic but still feeling heavy loss.

He was still there though. Jet smiled at me, and without the shock from before I recognized the sadness that lay in there as well.

“What is this place?” I asked him after sitting down before him.

He didn’t answer me immediately, and he looked a bit uncomfortable. “Nowhere we could ever have gone before.” He said softly “but that can’t keep me from being here with you now.”

My heart sank but it wasn’t something I hadn’t already suspected. “I just.....How long can I see you?” I asked him, hoping that the answer would be long.

He wouldn’t answer me though. Instead he called me over and we sat together, reading and sometimes talking for hours. At times I would cry and he would hold me, and at others he would say something so funny I would laugh for an unreasonable amount of time.

Every time though I would slowly grow tired and fall asleep, only to be back in the guest room, frantic to return to my recently departed husband.

The only reason I am as lucid as I am now, and in a state which I can write so clearly, is that my dearest Compass found me as I was, laying in the guest bed, dehydrated, crying, and practically catatonic.

It is only because of him that I did not meet my dear Jet for life.

I came out of my final trip to the ethereal library with freezing water splashed upon my face and my closest friend worriedly crying above me. The next few hours were a blur, filled with shame, and pain and sorrow as Compass brought me back to sobriety and consequently to my senses.

He is now asleep one of the other guest rooms as I write, here in the cold study. I feel empty and sore, but not unbearably so. The two largest loves of my life are here, ready to comfort me.

I know that one day I will see him again; him and his ethereal library, and I hope it will be sooner rather than later. For now though, I will wait, satiated by the closeness of my dear friend. And one day he may join Jet in that most cozy and welcoming of places, and I will visit them in my fever dreams before I too rejoice in my salvation.

2/12/1875 - Poisonous

February 12th, 1875

In this hour after the sun has set upon the horizon, and after I’ve finished with my evening duties I finally have found time to reflect on the past four days, and my final day in this wretched jungle.

Upon being invited on this expedition by my dear Compass Sparrow I felt nothing but eager anticipation as I told you in my last entry. Shortly after writing, we also received the itinerary for the trip.

It was simple to say the least. Either some pony was over exaggerating the impact of this particular investigation, or the itinerary was deceptively simplified. I wasn’t sure which I would’ve prefer under the circumstances then, and, as I write here in the confines of our tent in the low oil lantern light, I still wouldn’t be able to tell you.

In short, the itinerary stated the following,

“Day 1: Hike in, set up camp

Days 2-3: Investigate and catalog the wildlife and temple

Day 4: Break Camp, hike out

Notes: Do not touch or consume the wildlife”

The entire paper seemed clean cut with little detail aside from the notice, which seemed self explanatory to me, and only confused Compass who generally neither avoided nor went out of his way to disturb the animals.

Travel to the site entrance took hours, and from the entrance to our camp took even longer. The environment we were going to traverse was a dense tropical jungle south of much of the populated portions of Equestria. It was quite stunning to see in person, even as we had to travel in a rickety chariot.

The plant-life in the jungle was easily triple the size as it was at home, and was dripping with both water and magical energy. It was difficult to see inside the foliage and so I suspected that the density of this place would persist through to the expedition site.

Upon arrival, we were both given blank journals in which Compass’s employer asked us to keep our research and notes. Needless to say I received two notebooks and he maintained his cool ambiance for the trip. This didn’t bother me however. It was standard carry for Compass to get the jobs and the adventure, and for I to get the free trip and the scientific or historical credit. Its a well engineered organization we have, though I’m sure you’ve no doubt seen this in previous entries.

Nonetheless we quickly began the trek inside. As soon as we were under the canopy I felt hot, like there was nothing I could do aside from shaving my coat to relieve the heat. The stiflingly hot 95*F/35*C made the already lengthy trip take much longer than necessary, and the ground was soft and nearly muddy making movement more tedious.

Unsurprisingly the air moved very little with so much to impede it. This made every breath feel stale, and I hoped that we might be lucky enough to be near a body of water at camp where perhaps the temperature and airflow may be more ideal.

The closer we got to the site though, the more uneasy I became. The foliage seemed to grow larger and more dense, as if either could do much of that in a matter of speaking. The magical energy in the air too seemed to get thicker, and brining with it a sense of great unease.

I mentioned it to Compass quietly during one of our rests but he seemed unfazed by it. I suppose it was enough to know I wasn’t going mad, even if the looming sense of foreboding wasn’t shared by my companions.

After hours of slow going, we arrived at the campsite, which to my disappointment was not near a large body of water as I had hoped. This added to the heat which did not seem to relent as the sun began to set.

Compass did however give me permission to act as a scout for the area as he and our guides set up camp, something I was eager to hear. During this time I took a short walk around the perimeter of our camp and determined to my surprise that the area in which we were settled did not seem to carry with it any signs of animal life. I intended to investigate this situation further but was called back to camp for dinner as the tent and fire had been prepared.

The night cooled after dinner, I’d finished my duties at sunset, but not by a whole lot. Instead we slept in the stiflingly muggy jungle in our cots laid out carefully to conserve space. I’d wanted to write an entry then, however I had neither the time nor the energy to do so.

Sleep was fitful. The combination of new and uncomfortable atmosphere and the anxiety permeating the camp which had lingered, prevented me from staying asleep. Animals that were not present only hours before made quiet noises in the night, rustling the trees and snapping small twigs which only kept me further on alert.

The next morning came surprisingly quickly, or perhaps my sense of time was being muddled, I cannot be sure of either. We ate a quick breakfast and made small talk with the guides.

To my and Compass’s surprise, none of our guides would be accompanying us to the temple, nor while we catalog wildlife. For this, they gave no reason which puzzled me. If there was something to be feared, would it not be something worth telling us? I shook it off, though it added to my growing feeling of dread. Either something was keeping them quiet or they were lazy. I suspected the former but hoped the latter.

Soon after, Compass and I began our walk to the temple. We’d planned to examine animal life as we walked, however just as I’d discovered yesterday, there was no trace of another living thing aside from us.

The magical energy all around us seemed to stifle most other simple magic, which when used would dissipate into the oblivion, like trying to pour water into a lake. Only the more powerful of my spells seemed to do anything at all, and so I refrained from performing magic at the time, saving my own energy in the case that we might need it.

The temple was relatively standard. It wasn’t well kept and so was covered with a menagerie of plant life and stone statues decaying away. It was almost disappointing to see something with so little uniqueness, especially under the circumstances.

I began to sketch the structure as Compass investigated the area. I’ll be sure to include the drawing if our employer signs off and returns our notes.

When we were both satisfied that we weren’t missing anything, we entered the temple. It was small so the one room inside wasn’t much but it held intriguing carvings. They had very little writings, and the writing it did have was in a language neither of us could speak.

I did some preliminary sketches, however a sound outside the temple caught our attention. Compass wanted to run out but I held him back quietly as we made our way to the entrance.

At first we saw nothing, and I almost let compass run out as he’d wanted to do before, however I then caught sight of a tiny movement in the grass near the edge of the clearing.

With our eyes wide, we both stayed as still as we possibly could, as something tiny entered the clearing.

Outside of the grass it was clear that the small animal was a frog. It’s skin was an extremely bright color, to the point that had I seen it in the night I would assume it glowing. At the time I wondered if perhaps it did. As soon as I saw it, the magic within the animal was apparent.

It was almost as if the frog itself was pure magic, however it’s physical being was merely infused with such large quantities of magic that it would not be immediately apparent which of these was true.

I stepped out of the temple slowly, not wanting to scare the creature, but needing a closer look. I made an attempt to lift it with my magic, however as I’d discovered previously the amount of ambient magic rendered low level spells Inept, and now I was beginning to suspect why. With no way to distantly hold the frog, I slowly approached and outstretched a hoof, hoping that like other animals unfamiliar with ponies, that they too would be interested.

Compass attempted to whisper to me but I paid him no mind, and I was filled with a relief and satisfaction when the small frog leapt onto my hoof. Compass groaned quietly and I remembered that we weren’t supposed to touch anything directly. Seeing that the damage had already been done, I asked for compass to bring a container in which to keep our specimen for further research. He begrudgingly agreed, and I placed the small frog in a jar.

We continued our investigation at the work site though over time I began to grow more and more tired. When I felt like I was going to fall asleep on my hooves, Compass helped me and we called it an early day. I slept at camp until sunset where I woke up long enough to fulfill my commitments and return to bed.

I woke up today with a fever, chills, aches and strange markings all over my coat, resembling the markings in the temple. At first, I was worried that perhaps there was a curse upon this particular swath of jungle, however Compass reassured me that it was unlikely since the villagers had spoken fondly of the area.

However I remained incapacitated nearly all afternoon while Compass did some of his own research for once. I did get a chance to examine the frog we found, and after a long time it dawned on me what had happened.

With such powerful magic and such a magic saturated atmosphere, the frog’s stores had nowhere to go. When they came in contact with me, I was a fresh vessel to equalize the magic gradient. Such foreign magic was unfamiliar to me, and the concentration took me out of commission. The markings in the temple likely acted as a warning to those who found this area.

With a comforting reassurance that eventually I would be alright, sleep once again found me.

When I awoke again, the symptoms seemed to be dissipating slowly, as my body acclimated to the magic within me. I then decided to fire off a few spells to perhaps speed up the process in order to leave on time.

It only took a couple teleportation spells to prove my theory and relieve some of the magic tension in my body.

We’ll be leaving soon, so I’ll be cutting my entry short, but Compass said that when he conducted his research he found hundreds of these tiny frogs silent in the jungle, rarely moving, and seemingly sustaining themselves on the magic they produced.

I too will conduct more experiments at home. It’s not often one finds themselves poisoned with magic.

10/31/1867 - Halloween Without You

I’m pacing the garden at midnight,
Waiting for you to return.
The echoes are quiet and gentle,
And the darkness is silent and chilled.

I sit slowly down in the cool grass,
Looking up at the night sky.
The bats whisk above my head quickly,
I wish that my heart wouldn’t ache.

I feel your wings brushing me softly,
You aren’t here with me I’m sure.
I take a look over my shoulder,
And my heart becomes warm with delight.

Behind me is you in your jacket,
Smiling at me from the side.
I’m so overwhelmed with excitement,
I feel like I’m going to cry.

Your form is a shimmery silver,
Not the light brown that I know.
I don’t really care at the moment,
Though I will in the future I’m sure.

Your sweet voice calls out to me softly,
And I will join you with a smile.
Your presence is warm and inviting,
And I hope you’ll stay longer this time.

We’ll sit here together for hours,
Just you and me side by side.
Then I’ll feel my eyes drooping slowly,
And I’ll watch as you fade in the night.

My bed will be cold in the morning,
All candles burned out in the light.
I’ll long for you to be next to me,
And pray that next year is the same.