I did not scream and cower because I was afraid of the Elements. The simple matter is that I am a thespian at heart. If you really want to quibble with semantics, you could say that I am a tragedian, considering my unenviable record of success and my rather grim present situation. But I was not afraid. The very idea that I could even feel something as puerile as fear is laughable. And I would be laughing too, if I wasn’t trapped in stone. Now, there is little left for me to laugh about.
When you’re sealed in stone, there is astonishingly little to do to help the time pass by. All there is to do, all I can do is think. Fortunately, I enjoy thinking. Thinking served me as a wonderful distraction during my first adventure in exterior garden decoration. I am a draconequus of many thoughts, naturally. A spirit of chaos would be nothing without a healthy imagination, just a callipygian collection of incongruous creatures creatively constructed for creating calumny and consternation. They hate the letter C.
But I was thinking about thinking. Correct. Thinking proved to be a wonderful distraction. I am confident it will again. Because if I ever stop thinking for even a moment, then my mind will begin to wander. And I am not always eager to follow after it. Whenever I do get a grip on my mind again, all it wants to think about is what’s out there. Out there in Equestria, I mean. In the sunlight.
I already can tell what you’re thinking. “Discord mentioned the sunlight, he’s still in love with Celestia!” Allow me to bend the tracks of that train of thought right there. I do not desire anything... let’s be gentlemanly and say “carnal” from either Silly Celestia or Little Luna. I never have. It would be like a swan courting a salamander. I’m not the loudest supporter of the laws of nature, but I’d still sooner devote myself to the betterment of all Equestria than start looking outside my genus. No, the cat doesn’t begin to fancy the mouse while toying with it before the crunch. I simply miss being in the light.
In the light, I can see everything. In the light, I can see the glimmer of the strings of the world and I can pull them any which way I desire. In the light, I can see the ponies dashing about in a frenzy, trying to find any single place where they could be free of me. But they could run forever and never be free. Even in the darkest cave and at the bottom of the sea, there is still light. Even during Nightmare Moon’s bid for power, there were still the stars and the moon. There was still life.
But in stone, there is no light, and I can see nothing. There is no world here for me to seize mastery over. I am not so blessed as to be a prisoner inside my own mind. I do not know where I am. But I know that in some manner, I still have form. I still have a body. It is too dark for me to see it, but I know it is still there. It can be touched, brushed, grabbed, attacked. I can see nothing.
I am never afraid. I have my thoughts. They are my hobby and my distraction and my sword and shield. I think of new tricks, I think of how I could take revenge, I think of stories that never seem to go anywhere and never seem to end, I think of what I might see when Equestria becomes Out There, and then I think of the Out There in here and struggle to stop before it is too late.
I imagine that I must sound like a madman. I prefer to think of it as a sort of super-sanity that evolves from knowing more than anyone else. If I wanted to sound crazy, I would talk like this: “Celestia is a beautiful and fair ruler! Applejack is my favorite of the Elements of Harmony! Muffins are better than cupcakes! They aren’t afraid of the letter C! Lemonade and whipped cream taste disgusting together! Beards are unsightly! It’s lonely in stone!” It is all utter nonsense.
I am well aware of what I told Celestia. I’m super-sane, not senile. And I am definitely not honest.
The moon is lonely. I do not mean that in any sort of metaphorical, philosophical sense. The fact of the matter is that the moon is a big, empty rock pocked with holes and whatever Luna left behind. There is nothing on the moon. There are no surprises or secrets there. An artist may enjoy painting a portrait of the moonlit sky on a brisk autumn’s night, but I guarantee if you brought them to take a better look, they would find their interest rapidly fading. The moon and I would greatly benefit from one another. I wish the Elements had put me on the moon instead of entombing me in stone again.
Yes, the moon is lonely. I prefer having an audience, but I learned there is nothing wrong with solitude. As the first, last, and only draconequus in the world, the idea of being alone in the world is not an unfamiliar one. Do not dare to sympathize with me. I love being alone. I would love to be alone right now. There is a peace of mind in isolation. You’re able to sing as loud and as terribly as you’d like and no one would be around to hear it. Hygiene is no longer an issue. There are no unwanted surprises. Your mind can wander as far away as you’d like and you never have to worry about where it will take you. If you hear a strange noise in the shadows, you never wonder if your mind is playing tricks on you, because you know that it couldn’t be something else out there.
I wish I was lonely. But I am not.
Luna was the lonely one. The proper sort of lonely. Whenever she was able, she would extend her mind to speak with mine. And for a few hours, it was almost as if there was light here. I never saw it, but they did. And they would follow it to me, and I would run. I am not afraid of the dark. I do not fear the Bogeymare. I do not hold to hokey superstitions. I tell myself that I am being prudent.
I just realized I haven’t used the letter C in a long time. I tell myself that I am being carefully cautious and circumspect. I believe I am safe. And I am safe. I am just not alone. I know they come if I call them. They only creep around when they believe I can’t see them. Hah! I can never see them! But I know they’re there. So I imagine that they aren’t.
Sometimes I worry about what future generations will think of me. From what I was able to glean, my mark on history had been almost completely wiped away that pompous albino peacock. “History is written by the victors,” or so goeth the old saying. But to not even mention the people they were victorious over is just adding insult to injury. Nightmare Moon was reduced to a fairytale, but she still had an entire holiday devoted to pranks and offering candy to feed her royal fatness. Oh please, that holiday has “Me” written all over it! That’s pure nepotism, is what it is. The sister still has books and holidays, and I get a crummy window painting in Nosebleed Tower where no one will ever find me. Five hundred years I ruled over Equestria in beautiful chaos, and I don’t even get a footnote in a history book.
Though, on the other hand, it may be better to be forgotten. I feel wholly unsatisfied with the first impression gave new Equestria. I was back on the prowl for only a measly week this time! Even less if you want to count it in minutes and hours and not days and nights. And in that time, what did I do? I turned one, single, backwater hick town topsy-turvy and let children get the best of me. Ugh.
I didn’t even put my best work into reshaping Ponyville! It was meant to just be a warm-up! Everyone and their granny is going to think I’m only good for chocolate milk rain and cotton candy clouds! There was going to be a mayonnaise cloud raining sweet-and-sour sauce if they had just waited five more minutes! Now I’m just going to be Discord, the cotton candy and chocolate milk guy!
I have to be quieter. They can hear me.
I’m hoping that historians will at least play me up in their books before Celestia dumps white-out on them. Otherwise, being forgotten may not be the worst thing that could happen. No one looks for you if you’re forgotten. I still wish I was on the moon, though. On the moon, it’s safe to think you’re alone. I wouldn’t have to keep my guard up at every waking second. And I could risk being asleep.
This is trickier than it was last time. I can only think of outside thoughts. They like taking those the best. But however embarrassing they are, I cannot let them be taken. The thoughts are like little matchsticks, glowing with just the teensiest warmth and the promise of what will be waiting if I survive long enough. I do not know what will happen if I lose them all. I’m not afraid to imagine the possibilities, of course. But I still don’t want to imagine it. I do not let my mind wander alone. I do not know if I will always be the first one to find it.
And when my mind wanders, it always wanders Out There. Where they are. And then I start thinking of them. And then they start thinking of me. And I would much rather be forgotten. It is always hard to find it again once it goes Out There. I cannot see it once it leaves me, and only good fortune allowed me to find it in time.
I have nearly lost my mind three times Out There.
The first time was the closest, because it was the first time I ever realized I was not alone. Maybe after three centuries, I had begun to think about the princesses. Don’t ask me why, I’ll only lie to you. But I was thinking about the princesses as I was drifting along, not even realizing that my mind was going the other direction, Out There, into the dark. So I followed after it, thinking about the princesses to find where it had gone. My mind was miles away once I finally caught it.
I was never afraid of Out There. I’m still not, I just choose to avoid it now. But at the time, I had never been afraid of Out There. After all, Out There is just about everywhere that isn’t me. I was alone in the dark with nothing to fear. And that changed in an instant.
When I had found my mind, there was something else there. It felt like there was a part of Out There that was suddenly alive. I couldn’t see it properly, but I strained my eyes squinting at it. I could hardly make out a shape, but there were two of them standing side-by-side looking at me. One seemed to have a greater presence than the other, but both were less than me. Though there was something greater about them I could not decipher. Being naturally curious, I approached them and they did not retreat at the sight of me. I do not know how I could tell they were looking at me, but I know they were.
First, one touched me. Then, the other one did. And then, I decided to leave.
After that first encounter, I began to notice that they were always there. If I looked over my shoulder, I would see a part of Out There looking back at me. So I hid in my mind and I ran until I forgot about them. But they always came back.
The second time I nearly lost my mind, I was thinking too much about how I missed seeing the looks on the frightened ponies’ faces as they ran from me. The pegasi would fly away on backwards wings, unicorns would try to cast spells with rubber horns, and earth ponies just ran on springy legs. Fear can be funny. I was so preoccupied with my thoughts, I didn’t even notice when my mind slipped away from me. When I found it, there were three of them this time.
They were even less than the first two I had met, and one was not touching the ground. I could almost see a shape, and it looked as if they carried themselves on all fours, but what animal doesn’t? At once, the flying one and one of the other two attacked me! They struck me without a trace of fear, and I could barely see them! And when I was still reeling, the third one stabbed me! So I ran, tripping over my feet with every step.
The third time was on the day I was finally able to see again. I was fondly remembering how the foals were always the most fun to fool. They would do anything if I told them I’d allow them to have a cutie mark. Before I even knew it, an army of them had surrounded me. They were tiny and vicious, like a school of piranha. They tackled me to the ground, kicking and biting and stabbing. And I could do nothing against them.
Then, on the edge of the endless blackness, I saw something. For the first time in centuries, I was seeing something, clear and bright as day. I crawled toward the light, struggling to even move under the weight of the monsters as they attacked me. Because they are monsters. What else would ever do this? What else could they be?
When I reached the light, I could see everything. I was back in Canterlot, and they were gone. I thought I would be free of their torture forever. I could think as much as I want, and I could let my every thought fly across the world and come to life. I was never afraid, but I still thought I never would be afraid again. And that is why I screamed and cowered when the Elements came for me.
I'm sure that the seal will break again sooner or later. I am hoping it will not take as long this time. But until the seal breaks, they are still out there. And I do not know if they’ll let me leave again. I want to be in the light again. I want to see the ponies cower as I lord over them. All I can do is run from them and tell myself lies. Because it is quite lonely being encased in stone. And I am not afraid of them.
