The eternal, dreamless sleep awaits me, indeed I fear death may take me prior to the completion of this, my second and last attempt to communicate to those who bask in the warmth of Princess Celestia’s nurturing day, and the beauty of Princess Luna’s blessed night. Sorrow has wormed its way throughout my being, and pain has been forcefully driven into me like coffin nails. All hope has been snuffed out like a candle’s flame tossed about by harsh winds, for within this sugar coated fantasy world, I know that I shall always be an outcast.
Woe befalls those whose minds are assaulted by the vague shadows of fractured memories. These dark spirits ceaselessly haunt the electrical motions of thought through my mind. Many a foreign and contradictory scenes of love, passion, sunshine, warmth, and friendship, have darted across my brain like swarms of ravenous parasprites, feasting on the fruits of the labor of others. With regards to these joyous scenarios I have no dealings, save for housing them within the tattered remnants of my failing awareness. I have never discovered the magic of friendship, for my memories of such trivialities are not my own. My true experiences and revelations are of a much more sinister nature, and I would gladly skulk away from the intense, and unforgiving luminosity of knowledge into the dark and gentle embrace of ignorance should the option present itself. Alas, I fear that even unto the end of time, I shall never forget the chilling and earth shattering journey of self-discovery, brought on by overwhelming curiosity, the greatest blessing and curse of mortals.
I know not where I was born, nor who my parents were. The earliest memories that I could truly distinguish as my own depicted the decaying ruins of a great stone castle where I lived in quiet solitude. Dust would rise from my tentative steps, the sound echoing through the dank, winding passages. The ceilings were high, offering sanctuary to the tempest of shadows that plagued the castle’s interior, and many a time I fancied demons and monsters lurking within the darkness. Please think not of me as a reclusive hermit, who had, by choice severed their connection to the outside world. I was stranded completely and utterly alone, and left to wallow in sorrowful trepidation in the gloom of my stronghold. Of course, I knew that others must exist somewhere. Dusty portraits of colorful ponies in regal attire dotted the dark walls of the crumbling corridors, and the cobweb ridden library was extensively populated with archaic and eldritch tomes.
The moldy, old books spoke to me of ancient civilizations, puzzling arithmetic, and scientific procedures. Though I held no recollection of ever having learned to read, even within my false memories, to my delight every letter presented its pronunciation, and every word gifted me with its definition. My consciousness was whisked away to brighter places, like those of the false memories that fluttered about my head like hordes of angry butterflies. Many hours were spent meticulously pouring over every manuscript, and eagerly leafing through every page. Who had written all these words, who had built the very castle in which I alone reside, and why was I to lead my own life in solitude? My curiosity had sparked and would soon become a raging inferno.
On many occasions I had ventured past the massive, splintered double doors of my castle, into the thick forests that surrounded my home on all sides. Yet despite the intense inquisitiveness surging through my being, a great, chilling fear would soon tear at my heart like the razor sharp claws of some malevolent beast. The pillar like trees of the dense, untamable forest blotted out my view of the sky, and housed beneath their leafy canopies an absolute darkness that I truly believed would snuff out any artificial source of light. And perhaps even more horrifying than the inky black depths of the forest was the thunderous silence resonating through the wooded labyrinth. Some of the books in my library had mentioned wonderful forests filled with squirrels in trees, and cute little bunnies. In many cases, birds would fly free, and bees would make honey. But within the thorny thickets and shadowy corners of the woodland, the only resonances I could perceive were my own shallow breaths, and frail heartbeats. Without fail, any excursions into that horrifying mass of rotted bark and twisted branches would conclude at the front doors of my stone fortress. To this day I am uncertain if terror guided my steps back to the sanctuary of my castle, or if the forest itself had ushered me away.
The forest, no longer presenting itself as a viable option, was tossed to the back of my mind, and I instead decided to search the castle more thoroughly. Hours were spent traversing the silent, lonely hallways of my fortress, as I desperately clung to the hope of meeting someone or something. Perhaps the answers I sought, however heinous and disturbing they might be, were just around the next corner, behind the following doorway, or within the subsequent chamber. Anything would be better than my imprisonment in this ancient and forgotten structure of shadows, or at least those were the thoughts I had at the time. Ignorance truly is bliss, though it is a bliss that goes on unappreciated until it vanishes. I know not how long I stubbornly wandered through the dark and stony bowels of my home, but eventually my resolve faltered, and I retired to the library, the sanctuary within my sanctuary.
The numerous books sat upon their creaky wooden pedestals, and though they had no eyes of which to speak, I swear to Celestia above, that I felt their collective gaze of condescendence pierce me like a thousand angry wasps. It was as if they were taunting me in my failure. An untold fury erupted through my being and I flew into delirious fits of rage, overturning splintered furniture, smashing dusty vases, and hurling books across the library. Ultimately I turned to the cold floor and lay there in sobbing contemplation of my place in the world and the meaning of my pathetic life therein. Never before had I heard a voice, not even my own save for sharp breaths, though the tone of my roaring cries was certainly not what I had expected my voice to sound like. Each sob was deep and finite, like the closing of coffin lids, and was punctuated by shudders akin to fierce winds, howling in the night.
My gaze soon turned towards the high ceiling, and my eyes fell upon a bookshelf where a strange tome rested. Apparently this book, which I had never seen before, had managed to avoid the storm of my earlier wrath. Once again, curiosity overwhelmed me, and I rose on shaky limbs and ambled towards the enticing volume. It was a thick, hard back manuscript with no title and a dark, sturdy spine. I drew closer to it and began to pick it up, but it came to an abrupt halt as if suddenly welded to the bookcase. Bizarre dins began to fill the library, like the motions of giant clockwork, their sources coming from within the very walls. I quickly abandoned my pursuits of the book and drew back in uncertainty. The bookcase in front of me, slid back into the wall, revealing a spiral staircase, twisting up into the darkness.
That was all the beckoning I required, and so taking my cue, I began to saunter up the stone stairwell, an unknown eagerness mixed with anxiety pulsing through my veins. Was this path, a way of escape from my purgatorial dwellings, or merely another dead end? I knew not which outcome I feared more. My head began to spin at the constant need to turn with the winding steps, and the abysmal thoughts creeping across my brain. Excitement filled me to the brim with each step I took, for I knew that by now, my ascension up the dark stairwell would undoubtedly end somewhere high, perhaps high enough to catch a glimpse of the sky, no longer obscured by the leafy canopy of the dark forest. Suddenly my vision swam with colorful lights, and my thoughts were thrown into a muddled mass of electrical signals. It took me a few moments to regain my composure, and ease the mounting migraine away from my cranium, before I realized that I had collided with solid stone. I panicked, the already narrow stairwell seeming to close in on every side. Claustrophobia plagued my shattered perception of reality and I began to tremble in fear, for I knew now that I would never be able to gaze upon the blessed light of day nor the beauty of the star speckled night. I desperately pushed against the stone wall with all my might, and to my surprise the surface yielded to my efforts without a moment’s hesitation.
The universe seemed to rotate about its axis 90 degrees so that I was now lying on my back instead of standing in a secret stairwell. I soon came to realize that I was no longer in a stairwell, but resting on a firm surface. The wall that I had effortlessly pushed aside was no wall, but a slab that now lay on the grass next to my stone coffin. I sat up, the instinctive impulse to retch fought off only through sheer willpower alone. For a short time I sat there in confusion and horror, parts of me even longing for the stony embrace of my lost castle, but I soon regained the eagerness to quench my curiosity, and I greedily took in my surroundings. The dark purples and blues of the night time sky greeted me for the first time, the stars twinkling like tiny shards of glass, and the lovely full moon bathing the world in its gentle glow. I was in a misty graveyard, resting in the shadow of some great stone cathedral, decorated with stained glass, and rather ominous carvings. Many other graves dotted the landscape in every direction; some marked off with tombstones or beautifully carved statues. A sudden, rather twisted urge to check my own grave overwhelmed me and I leapt out of the coffin with newfound eagerness. I quickly lifted the overturned slab, hoping to discover something etched onto the cold surface. Dust cascaded off of the side of the coffin lid, uncovering a brief, though quite informative, message.
Here Lies Twilight Sparkles
Beloved Daughter, Sibling, Student, and Friend
So my name was Twilight Sparkles. For some reason I couldn’t find an ounce of satisfaction within myself at having finally discovered my own name. Though I didn’t really know all that much about myself, the name “Twilight Sparkles” didn’t seem to fit quite right. I shrugged, accepting the name that fate had bestowed upon me. I took care to avoid the cathedral, its parapets and archways reminiscent of my old home, and began to stroll through the quiet cemetery. The low hanging mists swirled around my legs, their vaporous dance disturbed by my presence. Once or twice my keen ears picked up on the hooting of an owl or the flapping of feathery wings. Soon I came to a gravely path, stretching off in two directions. I glanced left, and then right, and to the right I spied a faint glow further down the road. The smell of stew simmering on a stove, and warm pie left to cool on a window sill greeted my nose. And as if I needed another invitation, the sound of laughter reached my ears. Suddenly I felt the muscles in my face pull tightly back of their own accord. It took me a brief moment to gather that I was smiling, and widely at that. I continued to grin, and discovered that there was a rather cheerful swing in my step, as I made my way towards the lights.
The structure that housed all the bright merriment, of which I had long sought after, was soon discovered to be a quaint, straw roofed cottage, just on the borders of a thick tree line. As I drew nearer, I noticed a stream snaking its way across the property, the moonlight reflecting off the ever flowing surface of the dark waters. The sound of laughter reached a crescendo, and died down to a silent contentedness. I quickly leapt across the stream, excited to join in the exuberant gaiety, and landed silently on lithe and sturdy limbs. I cautiously stepped across the lush, green lawns, stopping inches from a slightly open window, and curiously peaking inside. The home was humbly, though beautifully decorated, containing simple furnishings and other necessities. The interior was a bright and warm contrast to the cold and unforgiving clutches of my ancient castle. And in the center of the room in which I now gazed was a small wooden table about which four colorful beings were seated, enjoying each other’s company after having just finished a satisfying meal.
A sapphire eyed unicorn with a snowy white coat and an elegantly styled, violet mane and tail levitated a napkin to her face and dabbed at the corners of her mouth courteously. A cream colored pegasus, with a pink mane that mostly obscured her face from the world sat quietly next to the unicorn, nodding politely here and there, though seldom adding to the conversation. An orange colored earth pony with a golden mane and tail, and a Stetson hat perched atop her head, leaned back in her chair across from the pegasus, smiling contentedly. And a youthful, purple dragon with emerald spines cascading down its scaly back, patted his stomach, letting lose a loud belch engulfed in bright green flames. The others laughed at this, and I too couldn’t help but crack another smile.
“I wish Twilight were here.” voiced the cream coated pegasus in a quiet whisper that softly caressed my ears. A silence fell about the interior of the cottage, punctuated only by a torrent of pitiful sighs. My heart began to beat faster, threatening to tear its way out of my ribcage. Not only did those within the humble abode know me, but they longed for my presence. Who was I to disappoint? And with that thought buzzing about my skull, my mind was made up, and I pulled my body through the open window. I thought I knew what fear was, for I had, all of my life, dwelled in dark places the likes of which even the most tortured of minds could not conceive. I called the dreary realms of purgatory my home and the forgotten provinces of the damned my domain. So when I say that a foreboding sense of terror and dread that even I had never felt, filled every crevice of my soul, and seeped into the darkest recesses of my tortured heart, know that even this is an understatement.
I had scarcely made it past the window sill when the faces that had once held visions of jovial moods and cheerful atmospheres twisted and contorted into hideous visages of appalling disgust and fear. Frantic screams permeated the small cottage, a stark contrast to the once contentedly silent air. The group of friends stumbled clumsily away, overturning furniture, colliding with walls, and bumping into one another in a collectively hasty and disorganized retreat. Soon I stood in the room alone… though I must have still been in the presence of whatever fearsome apparition had frightened the previous occupants of the cottage. I glanced fearfully in all directions, my eagerness and curiosity reverting to a primal horror and alarm, as my eyes carefully traveled over every surface of the interior of the house. And then I caught a glimpse of some horrible monster lurking beneath an archway, behind which laid a room very similar to the one I resided in.
From what abysmal depths of Tartarus the demon had spawned I knew not. Its chitin exoskeleton was as black as a moonless night, and a pair of filmy wings placed upon its hunched back, twitched sporadically. With wide, empty eyes the abomination’s gaze bored into me with unblinking ferocity, and for a moment I became helplessly lost in the captivating yet terrifying abysses. Vicious fangs, dripping with translucent saliva, protruded from its gaping maw, and a jagged horn angled sharply away from its head. I leapt in fear as if struck by a sudden bolt of lightning, and I caught a glimpse of the beast lunging towards me, just before I landed, face first on the floor. I lay there, expecting a swift and painful death to befall me, but as the seconds crept by, I found that I was left unscathed. I cautiously opened my eyes to find the demon mere inches from my face. I scrambled to regain my composure and saw that the beast began to imitate my motions, as if mocking me. Perhaps this thing that stood in front of me was no threat after all. Maybe it even wanted to be friends. I stretched out a forelimb towards the creature and it returned the gesture until its cavity ridden hoof made contact with my own.
It was in this moment that a familiar, yet somehow unknown, feeling surged through my being. For in that moment, with vigorousness the likes of which I had never felt before, sorrow wormed its way throughout my being, and pain was forcefully driven into me like coffin nails. All hope was snuffed out like a candle’s flame tossed about by harsh winds, for within this sugar coated fantasy world, I knew then that I was an outcast. Twilight Sparkles was not my name! All of my false memories were memories of others that I had impersonated! All this I have known ever since I stretched out my hoof in camaraderie and friendship towards the hideous changeling lurking beneath the archway; stretched out my hoof and felt the unrelenting surface of reflective glass.
