Fragility

Chapter 3

Refracted

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[Grimdark][Tragedy]

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Day 15 —

I wrote it once, and I’ll write it again now; I’m a scientist, not a poet. That being said, I insist it is still “irony” that despite my best efforts, Heart Stream said a resounding “No” to ending my therapy for at least another week. Not because of any grieving. No, that ship has sailed.

One crack about harming animals and he’s forced by university policy to put me on some kind of psychopath watch.

Did I write that he said “No”? I’m sorry, that was incorrect.

His exact words were along the lines of “No fucking way.”

In fact I’m a little impressed with Heart Stream’s vocabulary. It seems I’ve been able to teach him something after all. Or at least I’ve driven him to agree that I shouldn’t be under his “care” in therapy. Either way is fine with me.

In more important news, I managed to place the order for the crystals today. According to the colt I saw yesterday, during my well-deserved break from writing this thing, the rock is some form of “frosted quartz” or something similar. I just wrote down the name so that I could place an order, then left. He was one of those ponies that cared well too much about their menial work, or at least believed well too much that others give a damn about rocks.

In addition, a thought occurred to me about the crystal. Not only is its main body a hexagonal prism, but the ends are hexagonal pyramid shapes. This poses a host of new potential postures and arrangements to shine magical light through, with countless potential results.

I don’t like to be too optimistic, however. I’m merely saying that even if I don’t have another breakthrough thanks to these, I’ll at least be kept busy for many months to come. Sorry, weeks, if I’m to be realistic. Still, it will make for an excellent time-waster in which I have the chance to garner some false hope about the situation.

—Crystal Shard

Day 16 —

Today is going to be an unusual entry. Talk with Honey Comb brought up an interesting and valid point: I haven’t spoke or written to my parents in a year and a half. Given recent events, Honey was shocked that I hadn’t broken this streak.

There are many things I may be apathetic towards, but I acknowledge that I owe a debt to the couple that brought me into this world, even if it is repaid only in “sentimental value”.

Below I have transcribed the letter I managed to write for them today. This will conclude today’s entry, as I’d much rather not spend any more time writing today.

Dear Mother and Father,

May I assume you are doing well? I am, for the most part.

Life at the university is at least as limited as I had expected. I’m grateful for the space and time to conduct research, but that doesn’t mean I have all the time in the world to myself. Classes are mandatory, else one risks eviction from her residence. Of course, I imagine you knew this already. It’s no different than a simple boarding school, except for the greater independence. And that is by far my favorite part of this venture to date. I’m on my own.

Not that you should worry, however. I remembered your request, and have made a “friend”. Her name is Honey Comb. She works with bees. Through this, she offers quite the interesting perspective on many issues. Unfortunately I seem to be the only one at the university who can appreciate this. Most will pass her off as the odd mare who’s taken a liking to insects. Had I not gotten to talking to her myself, I may have done the same thing, admittedly.

My research is going smoothly. Sure I’ve had a few setbacks, but it’s nothing I haven’t been able to recover from. But I’m sure you could’ve predicted that on your own.

I believe it only fair to mention the tragedy of late. I don’t wish to bring any sadness upon you, but I’d rather not withhold information.

Honey Comb’s father recently passed away in a construction accident. I wish I could say it was an honorable death. I wish I could say it was remotely dignified. Instead, he was crushed like an insect under a giant slab.

Believe me, that is the gentler way of breaking the news.

As a result of my “closeness” with the stallion, I’ve been placed under mandatory therapy or “grief counseling” by the university. As I stated before, I am alright, and there is no need to worry over me. Besides, even Honey Comb herself is over the death by now. Why shouldn’t I be?

In any event, I send my best regards. I wish you luck in your future endeavors.

Sincerely,

Crystal

Day 17 —

Great news! The Royal University of the Moon has announced its first annual...

Full Moon Ball

In case I haven’t implied it strongly enough, “Great news!” was sarcastic.

I hate such gatherings, typically. What more is it than an exchange of social customs and proving to each and every other pony in the room that you’re as much of a blowhard as the next? Worse still, there’s a dress code. Whoever invented the ballroom dress better have been burned at the stake like she deserved. Most clothing is completely unnatural to a pony. A dress is a relative anathema.

I’m not biased unfairly either. I’ve had this utter disdain since well before meeting Limelight. That’s not to say she’s helped my opinion in any way, shape, or form, however.

The one upside to this ball is that it is an opportunity for a select few volunteers to present their findings. This, in turn, leads to two more problems for me. For one, if I were to present, I’d need something presentable by the end of the week. Secondly, attendance is mandatory. Whether I go there for science or social stigma, I may very well end up outright humiliating myself.

I don’t like to lie about something such as this, but if I have to, I have to. And if the school officials become sticklers for details, I’m sure there’s something non-lethal I’d be willing to catch by licking it off of a petri dish in the Medical Studies wing.

—Crystal Shard

Day 18 —

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

I have no choice in the matter, now. I’ve been called out on my honor. I’ll give you three guesses as to by who.

That bloody whore knows nothing of the pressures of actual science. She believes she can just stitch together a few pieces of cloth, wrap them around a pony and call it “science”. Blasphemy. No prior knowledge, no hypothesis, no experimentation— She makes me sick.

And then today she managed to somehow garner more hatred from me.

We passed in the hall, and at first it seemed like any other day. We exchanged our usual greetings...

“Freak.”

“Slut.”

...and were to proceed on our way. Except she decided to break tradition.

“Oh, Crystal,” she said. “I can’t wait to see your presentation at the ball.”

“Under what delusion did you come to believe I was presenting?” I responded.

“So you aren’t presenting? Pity,” she said. “I guess everypony will just have to make due with my findings...”

I don’t remember the details of the exchange that followed. More names were exchanged, but in the end, I was forced to take the bait. Pardon me, for a moment. Yelling this doesn’t seem to be relieving enough stress, so I’m going to try to write my expression of fury instead.

Fucking. Whore.

Ah, that does feel better. But I should get to working instead of dawdling with this silly book. At least Honey Comb has agreed to help me. I don’t know who owes who at this point.

—Crystal Shard

Day 21 —

This entry may very will trod all over Heart Stream’s rules but I don’t honestly fucking care right about now. Too much has happened this evening to go undocumented. This is so exciting it borders on terrifying. In fact it may just be terrifying, if for other reasons.

I’m sorry, I need to slow down and present an adequate amount of context for this entry to make the least bit of sense. I must remember that there are readers besides myself to consider for the future.

First, me and Honey Comb have spent the last two to three days trying to work with an algorithm I devised to generate prism combinations to test. We managed to split up the work into a sort of assembly line. She would arrange the crystals, I would shine light through and record the results. Rinse, repeat, etc.

This evening was the night that the ball was to take place. I believe we had both worked ourselves to a stupor. I myself remember tears, just not having any time to feel the stress. This was how we went about the process. Testing, testing, testing. I at one point honestly believed it would be the death of us. This was more of a relief than anything. It was an out, the promise of an end. As I see it now, it is rather fortunate that neither of us died. Or so I hope.

The sun was nearing the horizon. This marked approximately one hour remaining until the ball. The algorithm wasn’t anywhere close to having run its course. I decided we needed a new approach, but was unable to provide one. For this, I am a little ashamed. One of my biggest problems with other ponies is their constant willingness to complain, but never the ability or potential to solve the problems they complain about. Luckily, Honey Comb once again proved the perfect mare to balance my flaws.

“Honey bees, like many other insects, have much different eyes than the average living creature,” she began. I was dumbfounded, but too exhausted to argue or question.

“Rather than having one, rounded lens per eye, they have large, multi-faceted lenses that allow them to see and process light from a much wider radius than a larger organism could ever manage.”

It took me a minute, but what she was saying did hit me. It was a longshot, but of course after fourty-eight hours and then some time anypony would be desperate.

We arranged the crystals in a dome shape, matching edges to sides to form a perfect hemisphere. Well, it was somewhere in the mass. I had a diagram somewhere, but it’s since been lost on my desk.

It worked. It finally worked.

Honey steadied the dome while I prepared the spell. A simple shot of white light, with no other effects besides appearance, right into the point of one of the outermost crystals.

What we witnessed after this can only be described as harmonious resonance of light.

Through one prism to the next the light broke apart, came back together, broke apart again, and so on. The dome showered the walls of my home in a cascade of every color imaginable, each wavering through the crystals’ edges as from underneath rippling water.

The strangest part, at least at the time, was that I was doing nothing to maintain the light.

It was autonomous. Somehow, despite the speed of the light, there was always some trapped within these crystals. Well, for a few minutes anyway.

But it wasn’t the light that was trapped, I realized. It was the magic. I tested the hypothesis with another shot of the spell, this time in a purple spectrum. The colors in the room became dominated by purple hues, ranging from that of a bruise to that of a violet.

Honey Comb was speechless, awestruck. I had to literally shake her just to get her to look at me.

“We’ve done it!” I proclaimed.

There were still no words from her. Only a half-collapse half-hug. Once again, I was too tired to argue, despite being uncomfortable with the gesture. Oh well. It was called for.

But all this was only the first discovery of the night.

We had little time to waste. We got dressed for the ball: Honey wore a simple dress. It reminded me of a protective beekeeping suit, appropriately enough, between the thicker white cloth and mesh... somethings. Damn clothing, I’ll never understand the “intricacies” of it all. All I know is that she has her face veiled, something nopony could blame her for, despite recent optimism.

In any event, I managed to find something simple, yet dark, from her closet. She’s a little smaller than me, but it fit just the same. The important part was the necklace I fashioned. I took the keystone crystal, I believe the first one I acquired from the swindling salespony, and attached it to a necklace. The plan was that I’d surprise everyone by presenting the magical resonance of the crystal.

Never rely on the integrity of a plan.

I’ll skip ahead to the important part. We arrived at the ball with but a minute or two to spare before the opening ceremony. Most had already filed into their seats. We managed to slip in the door and find an empty spot towards the back of the room. I believe the others at the table were a couple of professors. Or possibly their grandparents. They were old enough that I worried about reporting their deaths every time one set his head down.

The headmaster gave a speech, and everypony listened as best they could. It took him a few tries to get an amplification spell working on his voice. I’d point out how sad that is if I didn’t think that would just waste time between now and my point.

It was after the speech that the next important event occurred. Food was served in a form of buffet. Me and Honey had just helped ourselves to an extensive amount of food, a form of make-up-meal if you will.

I could barely see over a loaf of bread, and I almost walked into none other than Limelight. Now, under most circumstances— Sorry, I don’t want to ruin the ending just yet.

As per usual, there were our greetings. Honey looked uncomfortable, but at the time I wasn’t too worried. Honey Comb never liked Limelight, but she still gets uncomfortable when me and Limelight become so confrontational. It’s a pity, but I can understand that fighting these battles is my job.

There was a crack about my presentation, which I was confident I’d make her look the fool over for. She made some joke about our dresses, and I called her a whore. Nothing unusual. But then she crossed a line that I never would’ve dreamed she would.

“So, Honey Comb,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want any vegetables? Squash perhaps?”

I’d like to hope I don’t have to explain that one.

Honey dropped her plate. It shattered on the floor. I set mine down to focus on comforting her as she broke down sobbing. Honestly, that wasn’t my true focus. If looks could kill, Limelight would’ve dropped before Honey Comb’s plate.

“I’ll just leave you two alone,” said Limelight, or something to that effect. I probably remember it as being more condescending than it was, but it might as well have been just as bitter.

I believe she left the main hall to look for the lavatory a few minutes later. By then me and Honey had cleaned up and relocated to our seats. She was beginning to calm down. I wasn’t. I saw my opportunity in Limelight’s leaving. I wasn’t going to take any chances.

What happened in that hallway is hard to define without explaining the exchange proper. I’ll do my best to recall what was said, but I can’t vouch for its total accuracy.

“Don’t you walk away you miserable little cunt!” I yelled.

Limelight barely glanced one eye back towards me. “What was that?” she mocked. “Did I touch a nerve?”

“Strike a nerve, brainless,” I retorted. “That was too far and you know it.”

“It’s not my fault that she’s so pathetic.”

I gasped. “What did you say?”

“She’s pathetic,” she offered. “How many times can one pony break down before they get over it? Come on, Crystal, even you have to understand that!” By now she had turned around all the way.

“I understand that the sanctity of mourning seems to be a little beyond your mental capacity.”

“What, do you still cry yourself to sleep about it?” she scoffed.

I ignored her. “You’re going back in there and apologizing. To her and to me.”

She laughed haughtily. “And you’re going to make me? How? Are you going to impress me with your ‘real magic’?”

I stomped my hoof. “Why are you so impossible to talk sense with?!”

“Why are you so sensitive all of a sudden?”

“Say you’re sorry,” I demanded.

“Never!”

“Say it!”

“I’m not going to!”

“Say it!!” I could feel the blood boiling in my face by now.

“Get away from m—” She cut off mid word. Her facial expression gradually settled to a blank stare. She assumed a natural, upright posture, as opposed to her usually dramatic “flair”. Then she said in the most expressionless tone of voice I’ve ever heard, “Yes, Crystal.”

I was puzzled. I waved a hoof in front of her face. Her eyes didn’t budge. I glanced up and down the hall; we were completely alone. It was in this awkward silence that I finally noticed an unnatural white noise: a low humming. It was coming from below me.

As I found out, it was coming from just below me. Below my head, rather. The crystal on my necklace was glowing a cool light blue. The same color with which my magic has always manifested. In fact, at that moment, I caught my horn bearing the same glow.

“Say you’re sorry,” I repeated on a hunch.

“I’m sorry,” she said, again in that disconcertingly flat tone.

This barely assisted my understanding. I backtracked through my thoughts; first I was angry, then I was furious and demanding. I was desperate. There was a brief moment, as I had last yelled...

I had tried to cast a spell on her. Nothing major, just enough to control her mouth for a moment. I believe I had planned to follow it up with “Was that so hard?”

Something went wrong, clearly. This wasn’t just her mouth controlled. There was no way to know for certain the extent of the problem, and any potential solution, without testing, however.

“Sit,” I commanded. She sat on her haunches, crumpling her dress.

“Yes, Crystal,” she repeated.

“Stand back up.” She did so, repeating her mantra.

“Stand on two legs,” I tried.

She reared up and tried to balance, despite shaking hooves. “Yes, Crystal,” she said once more.

“Stop.” She fell back into that perfect posture.

Total mental domination. She was as a charmed slave. Somehow, I had managed to turn a simple spell into what was thought impossible: perfect mind control. The crystal was the only explanation. If I accidentally directed a wild amount of energy into the spell, it could’ve been picked up in the crystal. From there, it resonated, becoming amplified beyond what I could ever manage on my own. To my knowledge, this was a first for any pony, not just myself.

But in all theories of mind control spells, there is always one flaw. Something that no pony under anypony else’s control would ever do. I couldn’t help myself. I had to test it right there.

I glanced over toward a large nearby window. I took a deep breath, then double-checked the hall to either side. No one was in this part of the university besides us.

“Walk over to the window,” I directed her. She confirmed the command, then did so. “Now,” I continued, “break it.”

I never expected her to listen. At first I thought it was just abject stupidity that prevented her from resisting, but as she went on... even I have to admit that she couldn’t be that irresponsible toward her own well-being.

She bucked the glass. It was too thick; it barely reacted to her. She continued kicking until a crack showed up. She turned around and used her front hooves, throwing all of her weight into the kicks. In this motion I saw her face. Despite her violent behavior, her expression was as blank as before.

It only took a few more kicks. The window shattered, letting her front half through. I stopped her from falling with magic. I’ll note that what I attributed to adrenaline at the time was in actuality probably the crystal’s doing, as she took about as much effort to move as a standard wood door.

“Face me,” I commanded.

“Yes, Crystal,” she responded. Seeing her from the front was disturbing. Jagged shards of glass punctured her skin and dress. One piece was not two inches from her left eye. And every hole was running bright red with blood flowing to the floor.

And she stood at unmoving attention nonetheless.

This was my second discovery. It took until I arrived at home tonight for it to truly sink in. Understand, I panicked in the hallway. I called for help. Medical staff came to take her to the Hospital Wing.

I managed to fabricate some story of a fight between the two of us gone out-of-hoof. Not the best choice, given the near-expulsion that netted me, but at least it was believable after how I stormed out after her. To clarify, the only reason I wasn’t expelled was my exact wording; according to my “account”, some grapple had us both thrown towards the window, and had we not been spinning around trying to get a better grip on each other’s hair, I would’ve hit the window first.

The blood on my dress explained any doubt of that one away. Imbeciles.

Only Honey Comb got the real story. And I get the sense that she’s uncomfortable with it.

Streetlamps be damned. I’ve come upon a true discovery here with these crystals. Not just light, but any magic can be enhanced perhaps tenfold through proper focus. That is my prediction. Tomorrow I begin my new research. There is no doubt, this will be able to benefit every semi-competent unicorn in Equestria.

All I have to do is wait for my new “assistant” to make her way home. Then the testing can truly begin.

—Crystal Shard.