Mirror: Book I - Mind

The mysterious tome laid atop Starlight’s lectern as it sat in idle study beneath the mare’s eyes. Having searched every corner and crevice of the foreign language archives of the great, castle library, not a sound nor syllable of similarity was bridged between what she had found and what laid within the fine, red leather book resting upon her desk. The golden chalice symbol on the front still perplexed her so, and the name of their supposed companion and friend, the human, had appeared more than once. It was the only word she could decipher, and yet did not know the meaning of.

Some words begin with larger letters than others. Those must be distinction between capital and lowercase. She pondered. Which means, those must be other names, or even places. There are people in this book, there are places too, and that could only mean one thing. It’s a story. The unicorn surmised. But, what kind of story?

The manner of coincidences had once again filled her mind, despite the speculative vibe she felt over such ilk. Was it a coincidence then that the boy had just so happened to show up the very day she was researching that peculiar dot in the night sky, the Star Regulus?

“Coincidences indeed.” A thum arrived. “But perhaps that’s the point?”

Starlight jolted in surprise and threw her hooves over the mysterious book, remembering a second later that she had the effortless, magical ability to simply make the tome disappear. As she did so, the unicorn glanced about her room cautiously, searching the walls and the corners as she called out.

“Who’s there?” She growled, sensing a dreadful presence. “Show yourself!”

“Ah, Starlight, always the secretive one are we?” The thum hummed about. “Perhaps your so-called friends would benefit from a shred of your honesty every once in a while.”

“I don’t know who you are or what you’re after, but you’ll have to-” Movement hovered in the corner of her eye. She glanced back over to her desk. “Hey, give that back!”

“Oh my, what do we have here?” The mysterious book she had cloaked somehow regained its visibility, and it spun and spiraled in the middle of her room as a serpentine figure faded into view, holding the book to its face and peering down into the pages with reading glasses.

“Discord!” Starlight wailed.

The draconequus flashed from one side of the room to the other, clutching the book to his thick, burly chest as a great, hearty laughter erupted from his lungs. Starlight could only think to barricade the door with her body, lest anypony discover her ongoings thanks to this beast and his more than obnoxious antics. Wiping a tear from his eye, he craned himself back upwards and struggled to cease his giggles, the unicorn expectantly staring daggers through his form.

“Wa-how~!” He held the book high. “In all of my eons, there’s nothing I’ve ever read that could make me both agree and disagree with something at the same time. What a find!”

“Wait, you can read that?”

“Oh no, my dear, you skim these sorts of things.” Replied Discord. “Trust me.”

“Tell me what it says.” Starlight demanded. “I have to know.”

“Oh, really? And why is that?”

“Because, well…”

“No need to expose yourself, I already know why.” Discord raised a claw. “And as much as I’d like to admit that I revere your suspicions, it is also the reason why I have come to dispel such ill thoughts, and set you on a new, shining route to glory!”

“If that route leads me to the truth, I don’t care about glory.” Starlight nodded confidently.

“I must say, what persistence.” Discord grinned fiendishly. “Your arrogance to what consequences lay ahead is proof that even if I did tell you what this book says, you would still be just as confused with it as you are now.”

“Oh, so I’m not worthy? Is that it?” The pony scowled. “It’s not like I wanted to stoop down to your level anyways, bub.”

“It’s not a matter of being worthy.” Discord snapped his claws, and the book rested back down onto the desk. “That would require something to be worthy of.” He concluded.

The unicorn played a wry stare, glancing between he and the book. “What are you getting at?” She questioned.

“I know you’ve had trouble in the past, I suspected that this would be difficult for you to ascertain on your own.” He flicked his talons once more. “So, allow me to spell it out for you.”

In that moment, a tattered, lavender coated book spawned before them and levitated in the air before floating gracefully down onto Starlight’s desk. The front cover featured a faded image of a horse shoe turned right-side-up, with five colorful crystals laid atop the edges. In the center lied a familiar, six-pointed starlike gem, signifying the Element of Magic and its five harmonic elements. Dust hovered about the olden, aging tome, as though time had its way with it more than anypony had ever bothered to read it. The unicorn gave the text a long, hard stare before blinking with realization. She almost hadn’t recognized it.

“The…Friendship Journal?” She recalled.

“As such.” Discord nodded. “I thought this bullet-stopper of a book you found in the ruins struck a familiar chord, almost as if I had already read it someplace prior.”

“But, I already have a copy.” Starlight levitated a renewed, revamped version of the Friendship Journal for the serpent to see. It’s similarities with the original journal varied from the exemption of the golden horseshoe on the front, ridding the front cover of the other five Elements wherein only Magic remained.

“Ah yes, your ‘new and revised’ edition of friendship which had spawned almost nothing but distraught and confusion among the masses.” Discord reminded.

“Th-that was just a spell of…misinterpretation.” Starlight tried.

“Need I delve into the marketing applications it birthed into this world as well?”

“Alright, I get it, there were a lot of ponies who took it the wrong way, but it wasn’t necessarily their fault.”

“If that is true, then the only other option to deem was that the authors themselves were responsible for all of the miscommunication.” Discord went to stroke his beard. “Going by that logic, was it not a matter of persuading the readers to see eye-to-eye with the writers? If so, then just what exactly is being mistranslated here?”

“What are you trying to suggest?” Starlight searched.

“Take it this way.” He proposed. “When a story flops, who is at fault? The reader, or the writer?”

“Well, I suppose it would depend on the reader’s motivation, or the writer’s influence.” Starlight went on. “But, it’s up to the writer to motivate the reader, and the writer must go out and gain influence from the open world, otherwise known as the reader, if he or she wishes to get anywhere that is.”

“Bingo!” Discord applauded. “I knew you were much smarter than you looked. We’re on the right track.”

“So…?” The unicorn tapped her hoof. “Are you just gonna float around my room all day and continue to be a migraine, or are you gonna tell me what I’m supposed to do with this?” She gestured to the old, red leather tome. “What’s the name of this book, anyhow?”

“What do names matter when it is what’s within that counts?”

“You’re as vague as ever…” She mused.

“Now now, just a little more patience would do you some good.” Discord cautioned. “I did say I wanted to help you, that which I will most certainly fulfill on my own accord, and that begins with…this.” The serpent gave a shaky, broken glare to the new and revised edition of the Friendship Journal resting upon Starlight’s desk. He plucked the shiny book with his paw, dangled it in front of him and exaggerated a gag before tossing it to the other end of the room. The book banked off the wall, was caught in midair by a tinier version of Discord wearing a sweatband and basketball jersey, wherein he slam-dunked it straight into the trashcan, buzzers and applause sounding off from seemingly nowhere.

“Hey!” Starlight wailed.

“The sooner you realize you don’t need it, the better.” Discord continued. “Believe me when I say there is nothing worse in this world than appraising and dismantling the old to fit the agenda of the new. What’s even worse is that no matter how hard you try, it cannot be stopped. Change is inevitable. In fact, it is natural.”

Starlight paused and took the time to consider the draconequus’ words, finding herself in a spell of disbelief that she was actually listening to him for once. She turned and stared down at the original Friendship Journal, the old and tattered text beginning to show its age. Flaring her horn and levitating her way through the pages, some if not most of the pages were still quite legible, especially Twilight’s and Rarity’s entries. However, the focus had become much broader after a few more skims. The unicorn began to notice five separate bookmarks placed within distinct pages of the book, each one color coordinated to their respective writer. Orange, yellow, white, blue and pink. Starlight could feasibly guess whom they represented.

“Are these your bookmarks?” Starlight asked Discord.

“Glad you read between the lines.” The serpent grinned, coiling around her desk to get a better view. “Tell you what, since you’ve been generously attentive thus far, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” He pointed to the colored tabs. “Each of these bookmarked sections weren’t just for the girls. These signified the exact moments in time when I had experienced something of a…magical influx, we’ll say.”

“Like, some sort of imbalance?” Starlight guessed. “In what, exactly?”

“In them, of course.” He chirped. “Twilight and the girls wield the Elements of Harmony, and have proven time and time again by shining through with their qualities. Only when they really, truly shined is when I had felt those extraordinary moments of raw, untapped magic pouring out of their very entities.”

“Then they must’ve felt something truly extraordinary in those moments, given that they were compelled to write about them.” Starlight noted.

“And why do you think the characters in this special book of yours wrote what they did?” Discord gestured to the red leather tome, caressing the cover with an eagle claw.

“That’s a pretty difficult question to answer, given I still have no idea what it says.” Starlight dead-panned.

“Ugh, the illiterate just don’t know when to take a hint, do they?” The beast rolled his eyes. “So, we agree that our friends were so compelled to write about their experiences because of whatever astonishing breakthrough they had with their respective Elements, correct?” He didn’t give her time to answer as he continued. “Do you believe that they wrote those entries in that moment in time because it was special to them? Or because they thought it might be special to others?”

“I have no doubt in my mind that Twilight and the others felt it was special to them.” Starlight deduced. “Now that I think about it, that aspect alone wouldn’t give them the notion to write it for themselves and themselves only, but for others, too. That way they might be able to compare their experiences with others.” It was now the pony’s turn to grin, and she grinned as though she were back in her old days at the prime of her study, solving the complexities to a puzzle she had been working on for hours or even days at a time. “So, it’s a trick question. Both answers are correct.” She finished.

“I like where your head is at.” Discord spun the mare’s noggin with a magical twirl of his talon. “But let’s not forget that these authors, the ones in your little ruins souvenir, could have neglected the possibility that these special moments they experienced, these ‘lessons’ if you will, bare no trace of relevance whatsoever to whomever may be reading.”

Starlight was ready to reply, but she was caught speechless and in thought.

“Or,” the serpent sought. “Does it have some trace of relevance after all?”

“Is this another trick question?” The mare wondered.

“Alright, I give, this one is a freebie.” Discord waved his paws innocently. “There’s no right or wrong answer, I’m just curious to hear what you think.”

Starlight took her time to think back and ponder carefully over her reply, regardless if the winged beast had told her that no matter what her answer might be, it was neither right nor wrong. It was simply an answer. Just what kind of question was that, then? If a question bore no right nor wrong answer, then what exactly was it asking for? Her opinion? Her belief? It was within that very moment that Starlight glanced back down to the old, mysterious, deep red tome laying upon her desk. It felt as if the very integrity of this book, perhaps even the mere existence of it, was completely dependent on what she believed.

Then it clicked.

“If my thoughts are in order…” She began. “The impact of the message, no matter who it’s from or why it was written, completely depends upon whether or not the reader is willing to believe in that message.” Starlight answered.

“Just look at you excelling on my account!” Discord cheered. “I’ll have to negotiate with Princess Twilight on having an exchange of tutors.”

“Wait, so, did I get it right?” Starlight shook her head. “Wait a minute, you said-”

“There is no right or wrong answer.” Discord finished.

“Then what’s with all the praise?”

“Do not be so arrogant, little Starlight, I was simply basking in the weight of the patience you had taken to think of your answer.” Discord continued. “I will say that you’ve managed to be patient enough to my liking that you just might be able to interpret parts of this mysterious little book of yours after all. Well, the parts that I need you to interpret, that is.”

Had the draconequus not been her one and only key to finding out what this strange tome of hers said, she would have interjected right then and there on dictating what parts she can and cannot interpret per Discord’s discretion. He was her one and only translator, perhaps aside from David, but that was a risk she felt that she was not ready to take. Not yet, at least. As a result, Starlight deemed herself to be making a “deal with the devil.”

“Alright, party tricks, you’ve been beating around the bush long enough now.” Starlight projected. “Shall we make a deal?”

“A deal?” The goat grinned. “I like that sound of that.”

“If I can amount to-”

“Oh, no need to auction yourself away, my dear. I already know what I want from you.” He gestured back to the Friendship Journal. “I couldn’t help but figure that the pages of this book are rather, oh how do you put it, lacking? They’re missing yet another ‘special moment’ in time that has yet to be written. An author, yet to be introduced.” He winked and nodded at the pony knowingly.

“You want me to…continue the Friendship Journal?”

“I’m surprised you haven’t done it yourself already, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Discord grinned again. “But, ah yes, why would a unicorn completely engulfed in her arcane academics have to go outside and waster her social energy befriending weirdos?”

“I have friends!” Starlight quivered. “They’re just-”

“On vacation, I presume~?” Discord hummed.

Starlight glared and hissed. “What would you know about Trixie?”

“More than anypony would need to, trust me.”

“Listen here you mismatched lawn ornament, if you did anything to harm her, so help me I will-”

“Of course not, my dear acolyte, I was only looking for that certain spark within you, and it seems that it hasn’t diminished quite yet.” Discord cackled. “What say we put that energy to use?”

With a final click of his claws, the red leather tome was tucked neatly away into the pony’s saddle bag, and the old Friendship Journal laid sprawled in the mare’s hooves, opened to a fresh, blank page. Starlight wondered for a moment how she had missed the open pages while skimming through text, guessing again that Discord might have rendered a clean entry for her using his magic, but the matters seemed to be irrelevant. A quill was tucked to the side of the book, and at the top of the page was a sticky, tape-on bookmark. Her very own bookmark, the same color as her coat.

“Go now, my acolyte, and write the missing verses to the Journal of Friendship!” Discord triumphed.

“I never agreed to be your acolyte, I’m only doing this so long as you hold up your end of the bargain.” Starlight reminded.

And the draconequus nodded. “You have my word.” He held a paw over his chest, claw raised beside his head. “Trust me, I never back out of something that might prove to be worth my time.”