Schisms

I could smell the fire before I could see it. I turned the corner and what met my eyes was a towering inferno, the heat licking at my muzzle contrasting the cool starless night. It was a red and orange monstrosity rising into the dark.

Ponies were trotting up to it, stopping at a safe distance and hurling objects into it. My heart sank seeing a book sail though the air and hit the bonfire. A random filly stood beside me watching, her enormous eyes reflecting the dancing colours of the inferno. I asked her what was happening.

“They’re burning everything.”

“What are they burning?”

She whispered it, “everything to do with Nightmare Moon.”

My coat lost colour as I turned back and looked more closely at the mob, there was organization and some ponies were crying as objects were ripped from their hooves and destroyed. I watched as another few broke into a house, presumably looking for the offending objects.

Turning away from it all, I ran as hard as I could towards my house, my library, and its well known collection of dream magic books. A nightmare, this had to be a nightmare my thoughts raced. The only known copies, they must be protected. The crackling of the fire and the cries of ponies faded to silence. I could feel my mane blowing behind me, and hear my hoof strikes on the cobblestone strong and loud.

Sure enough a mob had formed outside my house. Having a reputation of being a powerful unicorn had benefits. Not knowing if I was home they seemed unsure of breaking into the house, clearly afraid of what I could do to them. —They hesitated.

“OUT OF MY WAY!” I pushed through the thugs, made my way to the front of the house. I grabbed with my magic the pony who stood at my door pounding it —I threw him roughly back into the mob.

“Hand it over Scriptorium!” Yelled one of the braver thugs. He stepped forward. His dirty coat did not shine, his mane tangled, eyes wild with the freedom to finally be a monster. “We know you have all of Nightmare Moon’s magic. Hand it over, we don’t want to hurt you.” He spit when he said the name of the night princess. The other ponies around him cheered affirmations.

My heart was racing, like it would leap out of my chest and fly. “This is madness!” I shouted at the crowd. “Please, they are just books. They are my books, the only books known to exist, they have hurt nobody, we are not vicious dragons!”

“Hand it over!” The thug repeated, this time with a sick smirk creeping into his dirty visage.

I could feel the wind, I looked up at the sky took a calming breath and thought —Time seemed to slow, my gaze drifted back down to the crowd, I met the leader in the eye, and said the word that brought the chaos.

“No.”

A pony rushed at me. I grabbed him immediately in my white magic, and threw him as hard as I could into the street. He hit the far wall of the opposite house and fell to the ground. Every pony froze for a moment, looking at the lifeless body laying on cobblestone. I had no time to worry if I had killed him, as the mob broke formation. They all rushed me at once.

My mind was racing, calculating. I needed time, time to figure out what to do, where to go, how to save the information.

I did the only thing I could think of doing. I ran into the house towards the books. I was being chased, I tipped a table and grabbed a decorative plate off the wall and threw it with my magic. It shattered missing any target. Behind me I could hear the breaking of glass and other objects as the mob ransacked my house.

I dove into my library room closed the door and concentrated, a magic shield filled the room. The windows and doors lit up with white magic ruins, indicating the spell had set.

I ran around grabbing any book that had anything to do with dream magic, first editions of other books that needed to be saved. I began to pile them on a table in the centre of the room. I could feel impacts on the shield, my horn began to hurt from the constant assaults.

Quickly! Quickly! Faster, what do I save? What do I save!

“SCRIPTORIUM! GIVE US THE BOOKS!”

I took the tablecloth lifted it around the pile and tied it at the top, making it easier to teleport. Taking a piece of paper I wrote a small note and attached it to the bundle.

Keep them safe. Only known copies in Equestria.
—Scriptorium

Now where do I send it! Suddenly a massive blow struck the shield, pain lanced through me. They had unicorns now.

Think! Where? Another blow and the shield dropped and the door shattered.

I looked at the bundle and picked the only location that entered my mind at that moment, where I wanted to be. The quiet unknown farm I grew up on. Where my uncle and aunt lived, the place where I learned to love books and magic. He’d know what to do. I teleported them just as the mob overwhelmed me, I fought but was thrown to the ground, dirty hooves were all around me. I had a headache as I watched my beloved library burn, I could smell smoke and feel fire just outside, but I smiled to myself, they were safe for now.

An old green Earth pony held a cup of tea sitting in a chair on his front porch reading by lamp light. It had been a long day and he was tired. His wife called from the house. “Conifer! You’re going to lose your sight reading by that kind of light, come to bed already.” Conifer laughed warmly, silly mare, where else was he going to find the time to read, his daylight hours were filled with farm work.

A scream and crashing sound spilt the silence. Conifer ran into the house. “Whats wrong!’ He cried thinking his wife hurt. He entered the kitchen found her plastered against the wall shaking. The dinner table shattered under a massive pile of books, with a small note attached.