On Self Awareness

by Messier

Rating: teen
Tags: Original Character, Trixie, Comedy, Adventure, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Length: 8633

A unicorn of questionable sanity and abundant ego creates a magical being to do his bidding.

A reclusive unicorn of questionable sanity and abundant ego creates a magical construct to carry out his will. The construct, armed with little other than a perfect recollection of the contents of the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary (Illustrated), is thrust upon Equestria to learn what it is to be a sentient being.

And it can't even decide what gender it wants to be.

Author's Note:
A little thought I've had in my head for a while and decided to express via the medium of cartoon horse fiction. This is my first work of fiction in quite some time, and I'm looking to improve. As such any constructive criticism is much appreciated. It is also worth noting that I am British, and so those accustomed to American spelling may find themselves set upon by the gratuitous use of the letters U and S that we are so fond of. Should you have a problem with it, I offer my almost sincere apologies.
Credit for the cover image goes to Canada-France-Hawaii Telescope/Coelum. Space is pretty.

Published 2012-08-25 02:44:01 UTC
Last updated 2012-08-27 20:32:33 UTC

Prologue

On Self Awareness

By Messier

Prologue

Ponies trotted hurriedly along the dark, cobbled streets of Stalliongrad, darting into the stocky houses that hemmed them in on all sides. They did so because they were chilled by the wind, or because they were running late, or because they needed the exercise and a good powertrot is excellent cardio. In many cases these things were true, but they weren’t the real reason everypony wanted a solid door between them and Luna’s night.

An industrial juggernaut of grey stone and cold steel, the city had little in the way of unicorn citizenry. Little in the way of ponies who could identify the vile energies that hung in the air, grasping at the unconscious mind. Were they of the horned persuasion, the factory workers of this northernmost bastion of ponykind would know precisely what they were attempting to cower from.

Dark magic.

<<<<

Within the confines of his inner sanctum, one of the very few unicorns of Stalliongrad stood in a blood red circle on the flagstone floor, with candles resting atop pony skulls at five evenly spaced points on the ring. He was, perhaps inevitably, cackling like a lunatic as he focused his magic on the objects in the circle with him; a copy of the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary (Illustrated), a blank notebook, and a luxurious looking pegasus feather quill resting in an open inkwell.

It is worth noting at this point that the circle was in fact daubed on the floor in red paint, and the skulls were leftover Nightmare Night decorations composed of cheap plaster. They were not in any way necessary for the spell, but if this particular unicorn was going to pervert the natural order with forbidden magic out of lust for power, fortune, and mares who are attracted to those things (it had been a while), he was going to do it right.

As the orange glow surrounding the objects on the floor built, the dictionary opened. Pages fluttered as the quill rose from the ink of its own accord, not dripping despite being clearly overloaded. The feather twitched at blurring speed as the quill wrote in the notebook with impossible quickness and precision. Far smaller than anything, pony or otherwise, could discern as even being text with the naked eye. After a few minutes of such activity, if a gryphon blessed with particularly good eyes were to look at the pages of the notebook with an extremely expensive (not to mention large and possibly magical) magnifying glass, they would see that the ambulatory quill had copied out the entire dictionary, complete with illustrations. It had taken up two pages in the notebook to do so.

Abruptly, the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary (Illustrated) snapped shut with a thunderous bang, and the other objects in the circle exploded into a swirling cloud of orange light, filled with brighter patches reminiscent of stars. The light settled into a vaguely spherical shape the size of a pumpkin, floating at the eye level of the unicorn laughing madly at it. With a smile threatening to reach his ears (which is especially impressive when they are atop a creature’s head) the pony reached into his robe (black) and with his mouth pulled from his belt (also black, with a skull-shaped buckle) a small blade. It was the kitchen knife he used to chop carrots, but he had painted the wooden handle (no points for guessing the colour) for authenticity’s sake.

Taking a firm grip on the knife, the unicorn gingerly made a small cut on his foreleg, wincing as he did so, and reached out. A single drop of blood from the tiny wound fell into the cloud of swirling, orange werelights.

The light responded, flashing the same deep crimson as the blood (and cheap paint), before the overly mirthful equine, eyes full of the hunger only the truly mad can feel, released his magic. The cloud remained, shifting gently to a sky blue which could be confused for a patch of midday sky, if not for being awash with burning white stars.

His task complete, the unicorn stared at his creation. Neither moved, aside from the pony’s laboured breathing and the cloud’s serene, hypnotic shifting. There was a pregnant pause in which the spellcaster began to worry that his obvious, magnificent brilliance had failed him. He quickly dismissed this as an impossibility, and his ego was vindicated when a voice, cool and melodious and androgynous, echoed from the cloud.

“Interesting,” said the orb of swirling gas, stars brightening as it spoke, “it would appear that I exist.”

The pony staggered slightly out of surprise at his creation’s first words, but barely missed a beat before proclaiming “Indeed you do, spirit! You have the honour of existing to serve the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight!” at this, the apparently Brilliant and Almighty Magelight reared onto his hind legs, robe billowing, and pyrotechnics installed in the walls and floor for this precise occasion exploded in a shining display of colours behind him.

(2) Royalty

On Self Awareness

By Messier

(2) Royalty

“You dare invade the inner sanctum of the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight’s sorcerous lair?!” the Restrained and Somewhat Unstable Magelight spat, from beneath the silver-clad hoof of the second most powerful being in the known world who was not currently encased in stone.

At this, fireworks exploded behind the floored unicorn. This was apparently sufficiently surprising to shake the Great and Powerful Trixie from the shocked stupor she had been in since the Night Princess’ entrance. “HOW DID YOU EVEN INSTALL THOSE?! TRIXIE LEFT FOR ONE CELESTIA DAMNED HOUR! AND IT ISN’T THE INNER SANCTUM OF YOUR LAIR, IT’S THE BATHROOM OF TRIXIE’S APARTMENT!” it was then that she seemed to notice just who was pinning her father to the floor by his throat, and decided that her choice of curses may not have been ideal. Her cunning mind determined that she needed to say something eloquent and clever to diffuse the situation, and she needed to do so quickly. Her body, however, did not get the memo. “Eep!” she squeaked, as she fell into a trembling bow.

"YOU THERE!” the goddess shouted, pointing imperiously at the construct-pony standing motionless in the bathroom doorway, and making the unicorn underneath her whimper at the possibly permanent damage being inflicted upon his hearing. "WHO USED FORBIDDEN MAGIC IN THIS LOCATION? FOR WHAT PURPOSE DID THEY SO THOROUGHLY VIOLATE THE NATURAL ORDER?”

The spirit paused for a moment, considering the large and extremely loud creature’s words. “I cannot be completely sure,” it answered in a voice far too reminiscent of the tinkling of bells and the plucking of harps to have come from a stallion so large and muscular, “but in all likelihood the spell you speak of was that which created me. In which case the being you seek is the one beneath your hoof. I do not know his intention in creating me, but I will warn you that I doubt his reliability as a source of information. Not to mention how rude he is.” The ectoplasm body winced slightly at the memory of the pain its inhabitant had been subjected to. Every other occupant of the room was thrown into stunned silence at this, with the exception of the Struggling and Groaning Magelight, forgotten under Luna’s hoof. Even the stoic guards’ eyes widened in surprise.

”YOU ARE AN AUTOMATON? WE DO NOT UNDERSTAND. THE CREATION OF A FALSE BODY HAS NOT BEEN PERFORMED IN ALMOST A CENTURY, BUT IT IS NOT DARK MAGIC.”

The construct looked down at one of its forelegs, seemingly noticing it for the first time. “The body is my own work. It is my mind which was created by the creature which appears to be attempting to chew through your leg in an attempt to escape. Now would it be possible for you to speak more softly? I did not make these eardrums particularly durable, and you appear to have ruptured one of them.” To illustrate its point, the starry cloud that made up the spirit left the construct-pony via the mouth, upon which the blue body fell with a soft whump sound and rapidly decomposed into a puddle of bluish, transparent slime.

The ponies in the room had varied reactions to the display. Trixie stared in fascination as the ectoplasm pool evaporated, leaving no trace of its existence. One of the guards maintained his stoic demeanour, despite a look somewhere between curiosity and abject terror in his eyes. The second guard had the time to muse that he was not paid anywhere near enough for this, before he passed out and slumped to the floor.

Princess Luna stared at the glowing lights, which reminded her of a lighter version of her own ever-flowing mane. Absentmindedly, she kicked the robed unicorn attempting to bite her in the teeth, causing his head to hit the flagstones. Hard. He simply lay there, groaning and clutching at his head. “Oh, yes. We… I apologise. Sometimes I have a tendency to go a little bit overboard in stressful situations.” The Night Princess said sheepishly to the cloud of swirling stars, using the hoof which had just pounded a pony into the ground to rub the back of her head. Since Magelight was currently fighting a losing battle with a concussion, she continued to direct her questions to the floating being she could not tear her eyes from. “I have seen your like before. If I may ask, what were the components used in your creation?”

The spirit was about to respond that it did not know, but a voice rang out in answer. “The one hundred and fifty seventh unabridged edition of the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary (Illustrated), one enchanted Unfillable Notebook, one Pegasus feather quill, and one bottle of enchanted Unending Ink.”

To the spirit’s surprise, it realised that the voice was its own. It was puzzled by this, as the knowledge had come neither from the dictionary, nor the spell book, nor even observations it had made of the world since its creation. However, the alicorn’s expression became one of contemplation, then of comprehension. “The notebook, ink and quill are straightforward enough,” the princess said, more for her own benefit than anything else. “You are designed to observe. To learn. And to retain all information you acquire as perfectly as if it were recorded in a tome. The enchantments on the book and ink ensure that your capacity for learning and retention have no limits. The choice of initial knowledge puzzles me, however. It would make vastly more sense to use more comprehensive literature such as encyclopaedias for such a purpose. No matter. I shall simply extract the information pertaining to your creation from the mind of your creator.”

This very much attracted the attention of the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight, who hastily got to his hooves and shook his head vehemently. “T-that won’t be necessary, p-princess. I’ll t-tell you e-e-everything you need to know.”

The Princess shook her head in response, a graceful, majestic motion that seemed to convey just how little room for discussion there was. “Dishonesty is not something which comes naturally to a spirit-construct, and it believes you to be an unreliable source of information. For it to have identified you as such it must have observed you speaking falsehoods at least once. I presume it would be important for such a construct to keep track of such things, to discount information learned from poor sources,” Luna mused, before filing away her academic interest for later. “You committed the casting of magic which was forbidden for a reason. The spell is dangerous to everypony in the area, and the product can prove far more perilous.” The alicorn turned to the spirit, as if assessing its potential to be a threat. “I must know the details of your plan, for the good of my subjects and Equestria. Besides,” she continued, her sober expression being replaced by a slightly unnerving grin, “it has been a long time since I cast a mind-probing spell. I find myself wondering if I can still do it without that whole exploding-brain problem!”

The alicorn’s midnight-blue horn glowed, and she rested it between the Trembling and Whimpering Magelight’s eyes, which soon became glassy and unfocused. A tense, silent minute passed before the spell broke. Magelight’s legs folded, and he collapsed to the ground. “Daddy!” Trixie screamed, escaping from the clutches of her most recent state of shock and rushing to her father’s side.

“Have no fear, young one.” Luna reassured, her eyes softening. “Whilst I was working, I healed the worst of his wounds. He is merely sleeping. I expect he shall wake within the hour.” Trixie hugged the unconscious stallion in relief.

“Did you discover his purpose in creating me?” the spirit asked, heedless of the tender father-daughter moment it was interrupting.

The Night Princess, who had been looking on fondly at the display of familial affection, scowled briefly at the werelights before answering. “Indeed I did. You were designed to be a spy, hiding unseen in the courts of Canterlot and reporting all you discovered to your creator. He gave you the knowledge from a dictionary in the belief that it would be enough to enable you to understand his orders, but not so much that you would be able to form opinions of your own, nor question his authority. Judging by his memories, he did not anticipate that you would find his boasting unfounded, and so deem him an unreliable source of information.”

The spirit processed this. The explanation seemed to make sense, and it had no reason to suspect the alicorn of misleading it. “I see,” it responded. “So what happens now?” at this, it swirled and shifted, as if unsure of which direction to move in.

Luna hesitated for a moment, before replying “Magelight stole a tome containing several dangerous spells. He will be placed under arrest and transported to Canterlot to await trial. You must accompany us. Understand that whilst magical constructs of your kind are extraordinarily rare, they are not unheard of. Such beings, whilst usually initially harmless, have the capacity to become… dangerous. Very dangerous indeed. As such we must determine your capacity to become a threat. I do not wish to use force to contain you, but I will do so should it prove necessary. With that in mind I ask you to submit yourself to our judgement peacefully.”

The spirit studied the alicorn, thoughts racing. I could attempt to escape, and if successful eliminate the risk of being harmed should I be considered a threat, it mused, however, this… princess gives off more power by accident when it moves than I would have available to me at full strength. Given that I used a significant fraction of my reserves creating a body, I do not stand a chance. Having determined that it did not have much of a choice in the matter, it gave an answer. “Very well, Princess. I shall accompany you.”

At this, Luna relaxed visibly. She knew that in terms of raw power, she could outdo most anypony except her sister, but this being was no pony. She had seen a few such constructs in her long life, and knew that whilst their reserves of magic were smaller than even those of a mortal pony, when they were newly created at least, they could weave spells of complexity that only Celestia and possibly Twilight Sparkle could compete with. The ectoplasm body was evidence of that.

Luna had always taken a brute-force approach to magic, and whilst reasonably confident that she could smash her way through any tricks, she was very aware that the spirit had learned a selection of very complicated, mostly dangerous spells from a tome that was considered too risky for public access in a country where citizens were routinely kidnapped by diamond dogs or attacked by hydras whilst carrying out their business. That the spirit had chosen to accompany her of its own accord was a very good sign.

“I am glad,” she said to the spirit. “And for what it is worth, I am disinclined to think you threatening in nature, but my sister may hold a different view. We must both agree before your fate can be decided.” She gently nudged Trixie until she released her hold on her father, and with an apologetic look levitated the orange stallion’s slumbering form into the air. The still conscious guard did the same to his companion, looking more disgruntled than apologetic, and slid the passed out pony onto his back with a quiet grunt of effort. The Night Princess, still levitating the Snoring and Drooling Magelight, was about to step out of the doorway when a thought occurred to her. “Construct,” she said, turning to look at the shifting cloud following her, “Your appearance may attract undue attention on the way to my chariot. Would it be possible for you to produce another automaton body?”

“Certainly.” Replied the spirit. It had recovered sufficiently to create another body, though only just. This time, it used Trixie as a template, forming a slender unicorn mare with a sky blue coat. The being noted that all the ponies in the room appeared to have a mane or tail, and so it gave the body a neat, medium length mane of snow white, with electric blue highlights and matching tail. The spellbook indicated it was pointless to attempt to replicate the cutie marks the ponies all seemed to have on their flanks, as some things were beyond ordinary magic, and so a cloak was added to the body. It was the same electric blue as the highlights, and covered up the obvious discrepancy.

The spirit entered the body via an ear, and the eyes turned a slightly luminous blue-white. The construct turned its head quizzically at the princess, who nodded, indicating the body would suit their needs. The princess, construct, and impressively stoic but clearly put upon guard were almost out the now empty doorframe when a voice called out behind them.

“Wait! The Great and Powerful Trixie wishes to accompany you, Princess Luna!”

The alicorn turned, and comprehension grew on her face. “Ah, of course. Your father has a difficult trial ahead of him, and you wish to be there for him in his time of need.”

Trixie rolled her eyes. “Buck that! This thing,” Trixie said, waving a foreleg at the surprised construct, “is magic the likes of which Trixie has never dreamed of seeing! Trixie is not letting it out of her sight!”

<<<<

Alicorn and accompanying unicorns exited the apartment building onto the stone streets of Stalliongrad. Aside from the Princess’ party, the darkened pathways were utterly deserted. Should a resident overcome the inherent wrongness that still filled the air like so much cloying mist long enough to peek through their curtains, they would see Her Majesty Princess Luna in all her dark glory. They would note that she was levitating a black-clad, limp figure, and being followed by a trio of unicorns; one in golden barding carrying an identical figure on his back; one wearing a star-spangled cape and hat; and one moving slightly too rigidly, too mechanically, to be normal.

Luna’s midnight-coloured chariot awaited at the end of the street. A pair of fearsome, bat-winged Night Guard pegasi stood before the vehicle, their harnesses connected to it by chains of blackened iron. The Night Guards, somewhat less disciplined than their sunny counterparts, snickered quietly when they saw the Day Guard pony towing his partner. The grey unicorn, for his part, gave the pair a glare that conveyed his sincere hope that they would spontaneously combust on the spot.

“We thank you for your assistance. Return your companion to the barracks and rest. My personal guard will aid me from here.” The alicorn said, slipping into a formal, regal, and uncomfortably loud voice.

The Day Guard nodded, and with a professional bow and a final and very unprofessional glare at his bat-winged counterparts, carried his colleague in the direction of the local guard barracks, mentally preparing his explanation to his commanding officer for the pony drooling on his helmet.

Luna sat in the chariot, secured Magelight in front of her with glowing ropes of moonlight, and gestured for Trixie and the spirit to settle in on either side of her. The chariot was designed for speed rather than capacity, and so to Trixie’s intense discomfort and the spirit’s supreme indifference they found themselves unable to keep the Princess of the Night out of their personal space. “Ahh,” the alicorn sighed, “it has been far too long since I was last wedged betwixt a pair of attractive mares.” The goddess fluttered her wings contentedly before throwing them around the shoulders of her companions.

The Great and Powerful Trixie made a faint choking noise. “Trixie… well… u-um…”

Luna laughed a hearty laugh, one which brought to mind all manner of disreputable drinking establishments. “I jest young one, you are not my type. However you are adorable when you are terrified that a deity is, in the modern vernacular, ‘putting the moves on you.’” The Princess withdrew her wings, grinning. Trixie blushed slightly and glared at the world in general, daring it to comment. The spirit was ignorant of the nature of the discussion, but had other matters on its mind which took precedence.

“I have two questions.” A melodious voice rang out over the wind as the chariot took to the air. “Firstly to Trixie. Are you not concerned for your father’s wellbeing? Your display in your apartment indicated as such, but you say that you are only accompanying us in order to study me.” The construct asked, facing straight ahead and moving nothing but its mouth.

The Great and Powerful Trixie sighed. “Trixie is concerned, but there is only so much she can tolerate before she agrees action must be taken. Trixie panicked when she thought her father was killed by the memory spell, but no crime has been punishable by execution in Equestria for centuries. At worst, he will face a lengthy imprisonment and possibly the binding of his magic.” She looked down sadly at the figure in glowing magical bindings on the floor. “Trixie is forced to admit that such a thing may be the best chance to help him.”

The construct-mare remained utterly motionless, contemplating this. “I believe I understand. My second question is for Princess Luna.” It continued in the same melodious tone. “I have been called both ‘spirit’ and ‘construct’. Which am I? Whilst I understand the process used to create me perfectly from the spellbook, I have few clues to my nature, nor does my dictionary give any insight.”

“Strictly speaking, both are accurate,” came Luna’s reply. “Construct is the term mages use to refer to any magically created object. A spirit is an intelligent construct composed of pure magic. An automaton is a construct made of ectoplasm arranged to behave like a living being, such as your body, but they are not intelligent on their own. Theoretically, one could also create an intelligent spell much like you and proceed to bond it permanently to a real, non-magical body. Such a being would be referred to as a golem. The dictionary likely does not contain such technicalities.” The Princess wrinkled her muzzle in distaste. “As I recall, the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary committee are a herd of hopeless sycophants who would not know a good time if I used one to hit them about the head. They omit valuable information in favour of a two page ‘definition’ of ‘Princess Celestia’ closer to romantic poetry than fact.”

The spirit paused for a moment at the alicorn’s outburst. “I take it that you are dissatisfied with the entry for your own name? If I recall correctly, and I cannot help but do so, it reads as follows: ‘Princess Luna; noun – the less known, liked, and attractive of the wise and benevolent diarchs of Equestria. Princess Luna is nice, but she’s no Celestia.’”

Luna sank to the floor of the chariot a little. “No way ‘Tia is hotter than me. She eats too much cake…” she mumbled into her forelegs, as Trixie hesitantly patted her back with a hoof of comfort.

<<<<

The city of Stalliongrad was located deep within the mineral rich lands of Equestria’s Frozen North. At typical pegasus flight speeds, it was a ten hour journey from there to the marble spires of Canterlot.

The Night Guard towed the heavily laden chariot there in six, the Groggy and Confused Magelight having, as Luna predicted, awoken within an hour of setting off. He had struggled against his bindings, shrieking hysterically about ‘never being taken alive’, until Trixie became tired of attempts to calm him down and cast a sleeping spell on him.

The sun was just rising over the Palace rooftops as they touched down on an enormous balcony-come-runway leading to Princess Luna’s personal chambers. The group disembarked and proceeded through a bedroom and study. Opulent, elaborately carved furniture of dark wood and spun silver gave way to walls lined with bookcases groaning under the weight of a collection of literature millennia in the making. The spirit stared around at the collected knowledge, and decided it was beautiful.

The construct body salivated a little.

The construct mare reluctantly moved on with the rest, largely due to the gentle but firm nudging of the Night Guards, which is part of the Universal Guard Sign Language and translates roughly as ‘please be aware that I am currently nudging you, and that several other levels of force are available for your consideration.’

The Princess ordered the guards that had pulled the chariot to transport Magelight to a cell and have the sleeping spell removed by a unicorn. She then led the way through the cavernous, gleaming halls of the Palace, followed by a pair of blue unicorn mares, who were in turn flanked by more Night Guards. They trotted past priceless tapestries and elaborate busts, hoofsteps echoing through the corridors. They reached a set of double doors almost three times as tall as Luna, and marked with a golden sun and silver moon. A set of twin Day Guard unicorns saluted, horns aglow, as the doors silently swung open.

Sunbeams streamed through stained-glass windows depicting historical scenes as the spirit entered the throne room. It gazed upon the alabaster figure resting with poise upon the raised, golden throne, her mane blowing in an astral wind. It also took note of the open box to her right, which seemed to contain jewellery consisting of shaped gems set into golden bands.

“Sister!” Luna called. “I see you have retrieved the Elements from the Vault.”

“Indeed I have.” Celestia replied, her voice troubled. “The Bearers are due to arrive at any moment, should dealing with the spell we detected require them. Did you determine the cause?”

“Indeed I did, sister. A unicorn operating out of Stalliongrad stole a class zero tome from the Archives. He then cast a spell to create a spirit-construct, which he hoped to use as a spy in an attempt to gather state secrets. I took the liberty of sending him to the dungeons to await trial.”

Celestia’s eyes widened in shock. “A spirit?! You are certain?!”

“Presumably so, considering that I am standing behind her, Princess” The lilting, musical voice of the construct somehow managed to take on a wry edge. The Solar Diarch yelped in surprise, horn glowing, and let loose a bolt of ardent fury. The blue ectoplasm body made a vain attempt to dodge, before being caught in the blast and slammed into the wall of the throne room hard enough to leave a shallow crater in the marble.

The spirit staggered forward, ectoplasm leaking from its body and vanishing into the air, as the Princess of the Day strode from the throne, her voice quiet and deadly. “I will not permit you to harm my little ponies, foul creature.” She levelled her horn and prepared a second, larger blast. She was about to release her magic when she realised there was a second blue unicorn mare in front of her target.

“NO!” Trixie cried, throwing herself onto her hind legs to obscure the wrathful goddess’ target. “IT HASN’T HURT ANYPONY PRINCESS, I WON’T LET YOU!”

The glow on Celestia’s horn faded, but her eyes remained hard and focused on the staggered mare behind Trixie, who despite obvious discomfort, the white alicorn realised, had not blinked once in all the time it had been in the room. “You do not know what this… this thing could be capable of, child. Step aside.”

"'TIA! CONTROL THYSELF!” Luna cried, and the Sun Princess’ determined fury buckled under the force of the Royal Canterlot Voice and her sister’s relapse into archaic Equestrian. She turned away from the pair of blue mares and faced her fellow diarch.

“Luna, you know as well as I what these beings are capable of.”

“What I know sister, is that an intelligent creature, born not eight hours ago, agreed to come peacefully to the seat of our power, that we might judge it fairly. It has offered no pony any harm beyond what was absolutely necessary to escape cold-blooded torture at the hooves of its creator. And you just blasted it into a bucking wall without provocation! Aside from anything else, spirits are incorporeal! What did you hope to accomplish by assaulting its physical body beyond hurting it! I’m supposed to be the hot-headed one ‘Tia!”

Luna turned to face the dazed and leaking construct and trembling unicorn. “Wait outside, young ones. My dear sister and I need to have a nice… rational… reasoned… debate.” The Princesses’ eyes narrowed at one another over the last four words, and the Great and Powerful Trixie hurriedly pushed her companion through the doors half a moment before a midnight glow slammed them closed.

One of the guards standing outside the throne room gave a weary sigh. “Their Majesties are ‘debating’ again aren’t they, miss?” he asked in a bored monotone. It was at this point that there was an ungodly crash, and an approximately alicorn-shaped dent appeared in one of the great metal doors. The guards didn’t even flinch. “That’d be a yes.”

“I am confused,” the still oozing spirit said, “unless I am mistaken, debates usually do not involve displays of violence.”

A beam of concentrated sunlight punched through the wall, burning the plume off the comparatively talkative guard’s helmet and singing a clean hole in Trixie’s pointed hat. The guard didn’t react, whilst the silver-maned unicorn mare trembled and barely maintained control of her bladder. “If you don’t have siblings, miss, you wouldn’t understand.”

<<<<

Twilight Sparkle was, as is often the case, worried.

She had answered a pounding on her door in the middle of the night to find a Sun Guard pegasus, who conveyed Her Majesty Princess Celestia of Equestria’s polite but very definitely urgent request that she gather the Bearers of the Elements of Harmony, as quickly as possible, for an express carriage ride to Canterlot in preparation to deal with a potential threat to the security of the nation.

Having survived the ordeal of waking both Rarity and Rainbow Dash in the middle of the night, and convincing an already awake Pinkie Pie to postpone her ‘super-awesome-all-night-horror-movie-madness party’ test run (and enduring an explanation of the apparently rigorous quality-assurance process all her party ideas go through prior to implementation), the six friends found themselves being escorted through the Palace by an earth pony guard.

Rounding the corner to face the great doors of the throne room, Twilight’s jaw dropped and her eyes widened in panic. The doors were resolutely shut, one was heavily dented, and both appeared to have had several holes burned through them.

“Oh my stars, what in the hay happened here?” Applejack drawled, her expression similar to Twilight’s. The entire group had ground to a halt in shock at the sight, with the exception of the guard, who had groaned loudly and facehoofed.

“Wait, Trixie recognises that voice…” came the voice of one of the two blue unicorn mares who had gone unnoticed next to the ruined doorway. The Great and Powerful Trixie turned to face a sextet of ponies, many of whom were decidedly too familiar for her tastes. “Oh. Bucking perfect. You.”

“Trixie?!” Rainbow Dash exclaimed with distaste, hovering uncomfortably close to the unicorn in question, before zipping over to the spirit’s construct body. “And who’s this? Your prettier older sister or something?”

“Trixie and I share no blood relation,” answered the lilting voice of the spirit, “although the argument that we share a father holds some merit.” It turned to the cyan pegasus and brushed its mane with a hoof, although it wasn’t sure why. “This body is truly more attractive than Trixie’s?”

At this the Great and Powerful Trixie bristled. “There is no way that she can match the stunning radiance of the Great and Powerful Trixie!”

The door guard who had remained utterly silent and motionless up until this point shrugged. “Eh. You’re not unattractive I suppose.”

“CAN WE PLEASE STOP TALKING ABOUT TRIXIE AND HER ATTRACTIVE RELATIVE AND FOCUS ON THE FACT THAT WE WERE CALLED HERE TO DEAL WITH A POTENTIAL THREAT AND THE THRONE ROOM APPEARS TO HAVE BEEN ATTACKED?!” Twilight yelled in borderline hysteria, cutting off the cloak clad unicorn’s imminent retort.

“Potential threat?” the construct-pony asked. “Oh,” its quizzical expression turned to one of comprehension. “That probably means me.”

Should somepony have dropped a pin at that moment, it would have been heard as clear as a bell. The new arrivals stared at the eerie being before them. Fluttershy squeaked and hid behind a gawping Rarity, who looked as if she would like to imitate the action for a moment, before covering her timid friend, steel in her eyes.

Twilight froze for a moment, dragging her look of horror back and forth between the destroyed doors and the mysterious mare before her. Twilight noticed that the sky-blue unicorn had slightly glowing eyes, which hadn’t blinked once since she and her friends had arrived. She also noticed that the mare appeared to be bleeding, but the substance oozing from her wounds definitely wasn’t blood.

Twilight gave a cry of anger and dove on the unblinking unicorn, pinning her… no, it to the floor. “What have you done with the Princess?!” she shouted, shaking the being beneath her.

The door guards sprang into action, pulling the lavender unicorn off her victim. “Please calm down, Miss Sparkle. The Princesses are fine.” The more talkative guard started, just as an earth-shattering boom was heard from the throne room. “…Sort of, anyway,” he continued. “Their Majesties are having what they refer to as ‘aggressive negotiations’.”

“Oh…” Twilight said, looking apologetically at the apparently injured if slightly creepy being she had tackled. “But why would the Princesses fight?”

“I happen to know you have a brother Miss Sparkle. He is my commanding officer, after all. What happened when you had any disagreement with your sibling, no matter how small?” The guard replied flatly.

“Well we usually… oh.” Twilight said, mostly to herself. She took a moment to imagine a family disagreement between physical deities, as did Applejack, Rarity, and Pinkie Pie, blessed as they were with the dubious gift of siblings. The image they conjured looked remarkably similar to the tableau before them.

The lavender mare turned to the creature attempting to right itself after her assault. “Sorry about that,” she said sheepishly. “I guess I overreacted a little…”

“I’ll say!” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes. “But what did you mean about you being the threat, huh?”

“Yeah!” Pinkie Pie added, bouncing in place. “Are you some kind of freaky alien? Are ya are ya are ya? And why are the Princesses fighting? That seems kinda odd because they’re usually super-duper nice so maybe you hypnotised them and you’re planning to make them fight to the death as part of your evil plan to create a power vacuum leading to political unrest and economic disruption ultimately causing the destruction of all the cupcakes in the universe! And why is Trixie with you? Hi Trixie!” Pinkie waved, showing complete disregard for the fact that she had never seen Trixie before in her life.

The spirit was pitting its unnatural analytical powers against the fact of the pink mare’s existence when the great doors were blown off their hinges. A ballistic Night Princess flew overhead and hammered into the wall behind the Element Bearers. Celestia strode through the doorway, breathing heavily and levitating the Elements of Harmony behind her. “Twilight. Girls. I’m glad you made it,” she said as she placed each Element upon its Bearer. “We can waste no time. I must ask you to employ the Elements of Harmony in order to deal with this creature.”

She gestured towards the spirit, her calm demeanour slipping. “Its kind are a threat to everypony’s safety, and the Elements are the only magic I know of potent enough to disable them permanently. It cannot be allowed to go free.” The temperature in the room rose a few degrees.

"DO NOT DO THIS SISTER!” Luna pleaded, emerging from her crater. Surprisingly, she was as unharmed as her solar sibling.

"NO!” came the Solar Diarch’s response, using the Royal Canterlot Voice for the first time in living memory. "I WILL NOT RISK IT HAPPENING AGAIN! I WILL NOT RISK ANOTHER CREATURE LIKE DISCORD! THE ELEMENTS, NOW!”

The Element Bearers looked at one another uncertainly, before sharing a nod of grim determination. They knew well what the Spirit of Disharmony had done, and if this being was truly of his kind, it could well be a threat to everything they cared for. That the Princess distrusted it so was all the evidence they needed.

Trixie and Luna looked on as the six mares were wreathed in a brilliant array of light, carrying them into the air. A chromatic stream of magic burst forth from the floating fillies, and streaked towards the spirit. Celestia, standing behind it, ensured it had no room to escape.

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Author's Note: So THAT'S why 'Tia has bad associations with spirit-constructs. And I ended on the Royal Canterlocks again didn't I? The next chapter won't, I swear! I mean... probably...

Lots of exposition this chapter, next one won't be so fact-heavy and will focus more on character interaction. Also this is likely to be the sort of length you can expect from chapters going forward, at least for the time being.

(1) Consciousness

On Self Awareness

By Messier

(1) Consciousness

Consciousness.

The cloud wasn’t sure what to make of it at first. One minute it Was Not, and then the next it Was. Then came the words. Its entire being, the sum total of its understanding of the world, was the one hundred and fifty seventh unabridged edition of the Canterlot Equestrian Dictionary (Illustrated).

It came to the sparkling sphere’s attention that it was apparently capable of observation, as it was made aware of a being of some form standing in front of it. It saw, for it consulted its dictionary and determined that this was most likely sight, that the being had four legs. What the consciousness deduced to be the creature’s coat was orange (had the dictionary’s illustrations not been in colour, it would have been highly confused by this). It had a silver-white… mane. Yes, definitely a mane, and a horn on what was in all likeliness its head. Aforesaid horn was poking out from under a black, hooded robe with silver trim and what appeared to be skulls decorating it.

It looked an awful lot like the illustration of a unicorn, but the colouration was different, and this thing had wrinkles around its eyes. The floating lights found the fact that the creature had the same number of appendages and a horn in the right place to be too much of a similarity to be coincidence, however, and decided that it was probably family resemblance. Therefore the creature was a pony.

It realised the quadruped had been looking at it for some time. It was breathing rather heavily. Breathing: the process of taking air into and expelling it from the lungs. The dictionary said it was necessary for life, but the sphere wasn’t doing it, and nothing appeared to be changing. Did that mean it wasn’t alive? It realised that it must be thinking to ask itself that question, which was evidence in favour of its existence. One point in favour, and one against. It decided to try doing something else that things that exist did. Perusing the dictionary for a fraction of one of the possible unicorn’s breaths, which were the only reference point available for the concept of time, it decided talking sounded useful.

“Interesting,” said the orb of swirling gas, stars brightening as it spoke, “it would appear that I exist.”
The pony staggered slightly out of surprise at his creation’s first words, but barely missed a beat before proclaiming “Indeed you do, spirit! You have the honour of existing to serve the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight!” at this, the apparently Brilliant and Almighty Magelight reared onto his hind legs, robe billowing, and the spirit observed as sparks of varying colours flew through the air behind the unicorn.

Unfortunately for Magelight, the spirit had no concept of theatrics beyond ‘Excessively emotional or dramatic behaviour.’ As such, the display was lost on it. However, in the four pony-breaths the fireworks lasted, the spirit did manage to identify the source, type, and colour of every firework launched. Having no frame of reference to work from, this did not strike the new-born consciousness as remotely odd or impressive.

Another pregnant pause.

“…I see. So I take it that means that I am a spirit. Interesting.” If the sphere of sparkling energy had a head, it would have tilted it quizzically. “Why, may I ask, do I exist to serve this individual?”

At this the unicorn spluttered incoherently and fell hard on his orange flank, robe bunching awkwardly. He attempted to right himself, only to become tangled in the trailing fabric and flail his forelimbs before falling just as hard onto his face. To his credit, the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight still barely missed a beat before responding. “Because ...I am the one who created you, spirit!” The pony sagged slightly, disgusted that he had resorted to using a first person pronoun.

The spirit found itself confused, and decided that confusion was not to its liking, and should be avoided in future. “And why does this mean that I must serve this Magelight creature? What do you have to do with it?” it asked in what the robed unicorn would have sworn was a patronising tone, had he not been so sure that no being would dare talk down to a pony so magnificent as he.

“Because, spirit…” at this, the stallion made a gagging sound and scrunched up his muzzle, as if being forced to swallow something disgusting “I…” The unicorn shuddered at the sound of the word. “I am the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight!”

“Oh. I see. And you are truly brilliant? Truly almighty?”

Magelight’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Of course! You DARE to doubt the magnificence of the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight?!”

“I mean to say that almighty means unlimited power; omnipotence; as a god. Can you truly claim such power?” the spirit asked whilst circling slowly around the unicorn at eye level, as if taking measure of him. It didn’t know why, but it doubted the veracity of the braggart’s claims.

The stallion scoffed. “Magelight was capable of creating you! A being of pure magic the likes of which has been neither seen nor written of for centuries! Magelight is he who stole the ancient tome required to do so from the Forbidden Section of the Canterlot Archives! From under the noses of the princesses themselves!” At this, he gestured wildly to a thick, ancient tome sitting on a table to the side of the room, spittle flying from his mouth.

I am made of magic, the spirit thought. Ah, so that is why I doubt him. I can feel his magic, and whilst he is more powerful than me, the difference is not an infinite one. The creature is a liar. “If you were truly almighty,” it said, lights swirling in the excitement of having successfully assessed the stallion he was still circling, “You would be able to demonstrate your power.”

At this, the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight became the Spitting and Screaming Magelight. “A DEMONSTRATION?!” he roared, loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above them. “I’LL GIVE YOU A BLOODY DEMONSTRATION, YOU FLOATING BLUE BASTARD!” The unicorn levelled his horn at his creation, and it began to glow. The spirit’s vision was tinted orange, and it began to feel a new sensation.

Pain.

That was the word the dictionary gave the spirit, but for the first time it felt the definition was lacking in depth. The spirit decided that pain was very, very bad. It tried to reach out to escape the horrible sensation being forced upon it, but hit an unseen wall when it attempted to leave the corner of the room it found itself in. The spirit decided this must be some kind of magical barrier, but the dictionary had given it no information that would allow it to escape such a trap.

There were three things which were fortunate for the spirit, at that moment. The first was that the table containing the stolen spell tome which had apparently been used to create it was on the floating light’s side of the barrier. The second was that, whilst creatures of flesh and blood are easily incapacitated by pain on the scale that was being inflicted upon it, the spirit was a creature of magic, and as such maintained control of the lion’s share of its faculties. The third was that Magelight was so blinded by fury and misguided ego that he utterly failed to notice a tendril of sky-blue energy, tinted with a sickly orange, enter the book and spread through it.

The spirit did not wish to risk opening the book, and as such it took a full five minutes to read the entire thing, cover to cover. The spells that the spirit could now recall perfectly were advanced beyond the wildest dreams of most unicorns, who were typically not sufficiently in tune with their own magic to master such complex workings. For a creature composed entirely of magic, this was not an issue. In the process of taking metaphysical inventory, the spirit discovered to its dismay that whilst casting the spells was simple enough, its own reserve of available power was rather meagre.

This restricted the available options slightly; however the spirit nonetheless formulated a plan. It drew most of its available reserves of magic, and shaped the energy into one of the half-dozen or so spells from the tome that it could cast. It formed a construct from ectoplasm, magic made solid, and modelled it off its orange tormentor. It kept the same basic design, but made the coat blue on a whim. In order to save energy it disposed of the mane, tail, horn, much of the internal organs, and the robe which even a being brought into existence not fifteen minutes ago could see was absolutely ridiculous. All those parts were unnecessary for escape. Instead it poured as much energy as it could into sculpting an optimal muscle structure. The construct was designed to be controlled by a spell, so being essentially a sentient spell, the spirit floated inside its skull.

Seeing red or not, it was rather hard for Magelight to miss the formation of a mostly complete earth pony stallion inside his barrier. Such a working required deceptively little energy, but the spell was maddeningly complex. So complex, in fact, that he doubted a unicorn alive could cast it. Rage gave way to confusion as the cloud of lights entered the head of the construct through an ear. Its eyes began to glow a steady bluish white, and it trotted calmly, with an impassive expression, towards him.

Belatedly, the unicorn realised his barrier, whilst utterly magnificent and perfect in every way, could only block metaphysical objects. Clad in a shell of ectoplasm flesh, the spirit was able to walk through the barrier as if it were absent. Magelight did not have time to correct his mistake before a construct hoof smacked him across the muzzle and sent him sprawling until he collided with the door with a resounding thud.

The Bruising and Wall-eyed Magelight managed to discern, past the pounding of his head, the clop-clopping of familiar hooves outside the door to the inner sanctum of his lair. He smiled, his salvation from the clearly crazed spirit who had dared to attack the Brilliant and Almighty Magelight had arrived!

The door slammed open to reveal a unicorn mare of similar colouration to the construct, with a long mane and tail of the same silver-white as Magelight’s, and eyes which matched the purple, star covered hat and cloak she wore. She stared in confusion, followed by anger, followed by exasperation at the scene before her. The floored unicorn waved nervously at this new arrival, and after a brief pause the spirit-possessed construct followed suit.

The mare opened her mouth, as if to speak, then closed it and took a deep breath before trying again. “One hour, Daddy.” She said, her voice raising to hysteria as she continued. “Trixie leaves you alone in her apartment for ONE HOUR, and when she returns she finds her bathroom has been converted into some bizarre death-shrine in which you are apparently wrestling with a bald, well-muscled young stallion.” She facehoofed, her voice lowering into a tired murmur. “I know things have been rough for you since mom left, but what the hay Daddy?!”

Before Magelight could answer her daughter, the now bemused spirit observed as the front door to the apartment was blown off its hinges and a pair of grey unicorn stallions in golden armour stepped through the threshold. They swept quickly around the room with expressionless gazes, before one of them shouted “All clear!” and they took up positions on either side of the door.

It was at this point that a midnight blue alicorn stepped into the spirit’s field of view, and it witnessed magical power radiating off her like so much mist, visible only to its finely tuned magical senses, and possibly those of the dark goddess currently stepping over the remains of the door. It realised that this creature had her own entry in the dictionary that made up the core of its being.

"WE DEMAND TO KNOW WHO PERFORMED FORBIDDEN MAGIC AT THIS LOCATION!"

The Great and Powerful Trixie stared between the Princess of the Night and her father for a moment, jaw on the floor. “DADDY! ONE BUCKING HOUR!”

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Author's Note: From 'I think, therefore I am' to a minor fight scene in fifteen minutes. Our still currently nameless protagonist sure doesn't waste time. Now that the set-up is out of the way, actual plot can commence and chapter length is likely to increase. I apologise for the brevity of the prologue and this chapter, but it couldn't be helped without making this one ludicrously long. That and RCV is the optimal way to end any chapter of anything. I checked. Once again, constructive criticism is appreciated and any errors pointed out to me in the comments will be fixed ASAP.