A Monster in the Attic

"I don't hate magic per say. I just really, really wish the people using it would disappear. Ponies or others. I wish they'd realize how useless they are without it."

"Now, now, Cozy," the stallion with a barely functioning voice said. "What did we say?"

The teen filly readjusted her feathers, sitting on a chair with an old stallion by her side, both facing headmare Starlight behind her desk. The unicorn had a concerned face, but was nonetheless listening to Cozy, who was still looking a bit embarrassed after the stallion had corrected her. But, she took a deep breath, getting back some composure, as the word painfully escaped her mouth:

"Sorry."

She was sincere, or at least sincerely trying to be. All of this felt awkward, at best. But it was a necessary path.

"Go on," Starlight precociously invited.

"Right," the young pegasus scratched her throat. "Let's talk about my foalhood."

I was born in a valley, west of Equestria. A very rural place, the closest train station was Tall Tale, which was itself at least a week away on hoof. Among the hills, many villages had sprouted here and there, with their own costumes, their own cultures. Small villages, barely interacting with each other, aside from trade and the occasional family reunion.

But I was different. I was born in-

"CozyDim Rook! Would you come downstairs, we have guests!"

"Yes mom!"

The young filly happily dropped her book on the dark arcanes and headed out of the library. Once in the hallway, she galloped for a few meters, before turning right, arriving in the main-entrance's hall, a large room with two big sets of stairs on each side, leading to the great double-doors. Coming from the mezzanine, the little pegasus rushed downstairs, meeting her mother and the two guests standing in the middle of the hall.

My mom was a unicorn. A tall mare, the kind you usually only see in Canterlot – not that a lot of ponies around here knew what Canterlot even looked like – with semi-circular glasses hiding strict eyes that never filled with anything other than judgment, a too-well maintained mane, and a very straight posture.

"Welcome to our home!" Cozy said with a bright smile, saluting the two other ponies, as they made their way into the next room.

We regularly received guests. From all the neighboring villages, ponies would come over to visit the mansion and talk to my father. I never really knew why, but it seemed important. Having magic made him special

While the two ponies walked into the living-room, Cozy and her mother stayed in the main hall, side by side.

"Will they stay for the night?" the filly asked.

"Probably," the mother said with utmost neutral tone.

"Will I be able to play with them?"

The mare refrained from rolling her eyes, instead answering with a pinch of bitterness:

"You know how your father is. I'm sure he'll let you play once he's done."

"Will he watch me...?"

This demand was made with a more cautious tone, she knew not to ask for too much. Yet, the hope it bore was coming from a deeper place in the young pegasus. And it's only by pity that her mother didn't snicker out loud but internally.

"Ask him, and you'll see."

It is... interesting what ponies consider to be normal, you know? I mean, you enslaved a whole village, stripped everyone of what made them unique, and it only seemed reasonable to you. A necessary evil at worst, and probably more like a gift you were giving. No offense, I wouldn't judge you or anything. It's just that I now see what we might have in common, what I have in common with everypony, actually. But I did... so much worse than you...

The dungeon was quiet. Every time her father had been at work, his guest would always be silent, so she had to find other ways to be creative. And she was just a filly, after all. Still, it's incredible what one might do with some ropes, a few nails and a weight.

Her father was watching, from the entrance, waiting in the darkness, the room only lit by two magical spheres put in places of torches.

The filly finished her contraption and turned a happy face to her father, saying:

"Look! With that, her tailbone will be ripped in just a few hours!"

"Yes," her father said, refraining a sigh. "It is very clever, Cozy. But I'm sure you could've done better, with a rune that will prevent the tissues from tearing apart too fast, for example."

"A-A rune?" the filly stuttered, trying to keep her proud smile since she had technically received praise. "But I'm not a unicorn, I can't do that."

"Yes, I know."

He wasn't harsh. He was worse than that. He sounded disappointed. As he always was.

The stallion in the shadow turned away and left the dungeon, leaving the filly all alone, with the two barely breathing bodies strapped on the table and on the wall, unsure as to what she should feel. But her heart had decided for her: it was aching, painful, helpless.

The spheres stopped glowing, and she stayed in the shadows.