INSANITY

It was so clear now. Why hadn’t I thought about it before? Heh. My name is... Twilight Sparkle. I killed people. I still can’t remember who I killed, but they had some sort of significance. No. What I remembered is the pony that acted like she cared. Princess Celestia. Hehe. She did this, didn’t she? She’s the reason I can’t... remember.

It was slow, but her features slowly began to return, and with that... my hate. I hated her. 10,000 years. I lost myself for a minute there, but I’m back. The time will come. Celestia, I swear on my soul... your blood will be on my hooves. But for now, I have forgotten. That’s all you need to know. Heheh =).

Celestia watched as Twilight was once again studying the wall. It was a little embarrassing, but she herself studied the wall to see if it was interesting. It wasn’t, and after, she felt stupid. Celestia looked back at Twilight. She was still staring, as though the wall might hold some unspeakable truth that only she could discern.

Luna walked in and sighed heavily. “Sister, we need to talk.” Her voice was low but firm. “Twilight... we all wish for her to be better, but every day it feels futile. We keep losing her. I think... I think it’s time we put her down. It would be the merciful thing to do.”

Celestia’s expression tightened, and she shook her head. “Absolutely not. We can’t give up on her. There... there has to be a way.”

Luna sighed, her tone growing sterner. “Sister, I will allow this for two more months. If she doesn’t show any signs of being better by then... you will have to face the reality of the situation. She’s already bad enough as is. She’s still skinnier than a hungry filly and barely talks after nearly a year of staying.”

Celestia’s ears flattened, but she didn’t argue further. She looked back at Twilight, who hadn’t moved, hadn’t blinked, hadn’t shown any sign she had heard the conversation at all. A pit formed in her stomach, but she refused to entertain Luna’s suggestion.

Twilight’s mind, however, was far from idle. Behind the lifeless expression and blank stare was a storm of thoughts, feelings, and memories slowly taking shape. They swirled like fragments of shattered glass, each piece sharp and disjointed. Her name. Her actions. Her punishment. Celestia.

She could feel the anger bubbling up from deep within her. It was subtle at first, like a faint ember struggling to ignite. Then it grew, fueled by flashes of clarity. She remembered Celestia’s cold expression during the trial, the sound of the door sealing her away, the suffocating isolation of her cell. It had taken so long to find even fragments of herself, but now she was certain of one thing: she hated Celestia. With every fiber of her being, she hated her.

And yet, something inside her wavered. A faint, flickering doubt. A small voice, buried under years of anger and confusion, whispered that there had been more to the story. That there had been a reason for it all. But every time she tried to focus on it, the memory slipped away, drowned out by her rage.

Celestia sat by Twilight’s side late into the night, as she often did. She spoke softly, recounting memories of happier times, though they felt like a knife twisting in her chest. Twilight remained silent, her eyes fixed on the wall.

“Do you remember the day you became my student?” Celestia asked, her voice trembling slightly. “You were so eager to learn, so full of potential. I saw a light in you, Twilight. A light brighter than I had ever seen before.”

Twilight’s ear twitched slightly, but she didn’t respond.

Celestia pressed on, desperate to reach her. “You’ve made mistakes. We all have. But you are not beyond redemption. You are not beyond love.”

At that, Twilight’s head turned slowly to face her. Her eyes, though still hollow, locked onto Celestia’s with a cold intensity. For a brief moment, Celestia thought she saw a spark of recognition, of emotion, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Twilight’s lips parted, and she spoke for the first time in weeks. Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “You... did this.”

Celestia’s heart sank. “Twilight, I... I thought I was doing what was necessary. I thought I was protecting Equestria.”

Twilight’s gaze hardened, her voice gaining strength. “You locked me away. You took everything from me. My friends. My life. My mind. And now you sit here, pretending to care?”

Celestia opened her mouth to respond, but the words wouldn’t come. Tears welled in her eyes as Twilight turned away, her expression unreadable.

Luna found Celestia the next morning, sitting alone in the garden. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a golden glow over the castle grounds.

“Sister?” Luna said softly, sitting beside her. “You look troubled.”

Celestia let out a heavy sigh. “She spoke to me last night. For the first time in weeks.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “That’s... good, isn’t it?”

Celestia shook her head. “She blames me. And she’s right to. I failed her, Luna. I failed her in every possible way.”

Luna placed a hoof on her sister’s shoulder. “You did what you thought was right at the time. None of us could have predicted how far she would fall, or how much she would suffer.”

“But I should have known,” Celestia said, her voice breaking. “I should have seen the signs. I should have helped her before it came to this.”

Luna sighed. “Perhaps. But dwelling on the past will not change the present. We must focus on what we can do now.”

Celestia nodded slowly, though her heart remained heavy. “I just... I don’t know if I can reach her, Luna. I don’t know if she can ever forgive me.”

Luna’s expression hardened. “Then we will find a way. Together.”

Twilight, meanwhile, sat alone in her room. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface now burned brightly, fueling her thoughts and giving her a sense of purpose she hadn’t felt in centuries. But beneath that anger was a deep, gnawing pain. A part of her wanted to believe Celestia’s words, to trust that she truly cared. But every time she tried, the memories of her punishment came rushing back, drowning out any hope of reconciliation.

She stared out the window, watching as the sun rose higher into the sky. For the first time in a long time, she felt something other than emptiness. It wasn’t joy or hope, but it was something. It was a beginning.

“I remember,” she whispered to herself. “And I won’t forget again.”