What is magic?
Is it an otherworldly phenomenon that is to be perpetually inscrutable to earth pony and pegasus alike? Or is it a magnificent relic of an age so long passed? Are we to forever remain in the oppressive umbrage of bemusement, or is the answer just out of hooves' reach? Despite such diligent research, any conclusion is still ever in the murk of the unknown. We can only hope temporal passage will relinquish unto us the rejoinder we've been so long yearning.
But then, why is it unlawful? Surely, it may reap just as many boons as it may the converse. Is it fear? Detestation?
Then, similarly, what are unicorns? They are ponies, just as we. Their singular defining characteristic is the possession of a magic-laden horn, which is, ostensibly, their sole outlandish trait. And, despite their grand power, they seem to be exempt from any sort of megalomania. It comes to pass, in fact, that these unicorns are yet the most affable and philanthropic of all ponykind. However, their provenance is just as puzzling as their ordainment. That is to say, what is it and from whence had it come?
But, then, if the origins are so unbeknownst to our feeble understandings, why are unicorns and magic alike met with so much abomination? Is there trepidation of the unknown? Is there antipathy toward the superior? Must they bear the brunt of our sedulous envy? Are we so conceit that all variables need not be in our sight? Must we harry those whom we don't appreciate, or can we practice the ye olde precept of "live and let live?"
Have we no compassion any longer? Are we simply to be dilute with animosity for our fellow pony? Is life so dismal that our beings are wrought with malice? Are we so jaded that camaraderie is a notion so far foreign? Are we unable to brush aside our disparities to live in harmony? Or are we to forever be subject to dispute on the base basis of cranial projections?
--Musings of an Inquisitive Soul
"Spike, take a letter."
Dear Princess Celestia,
We are currently making way toward Ponyville. Still no findings on the history of unicorns or alicorns. I hope your studies might contain some epiphanies, as all my hope has been swiftly dissolving. Godspeed.
Your student and colleague,
Twilight Sparkle
"It's a bit brusque, don't you think?" asked a juvenile dragon, clutching an unimpressive paper and a slender quill with a likewise lightsome grip. Gazing upward at a remarkably steep incline, he addressed the unicorn that lay in his wake.
"I'm not in the mood to be verbose," was the response, curtness dribbling from the unicorn's lips, "Getting exiled does that to you."
"Right." The previous dubiousness had been suffocated by an abrupt meekness; he hadn't intended his comment as an aspersion. After being imparted a gesticulation of continuance, he belched a stream of flames unto the note, causing it to disappear.
The seemingly estranged pair strolled along a mundane road besieged by plain plains, stretching on for some unquantifiable distance. Their pace was that of a promenade, but this trip was far from a lark. Nomadic though they were, they were yet again ostracized from a contingent dwelling, and were thus made to moving on to greener pastures.
Twilight Sparkle wore a visage of sincere penitence and amended with: "I'm sorry--I didn't mean to be so cross. I've been so scrupulous and cautionary, so painstakingly meticulous in even the most minute of details, and fate still contrives methods of ripping everything salutary away from me. Just frustrates me, is all."
"No, I understand. I mean, I've been with you every step along the way." Some reconciliation had been met; a new absolving aplomb manifested through the dragon's preceding limpness.
"Well, not every, but I'm glad someone is of the mind to comprehend the anguish. Commiseration is such a novelty when you're met with such assiduous resentment day in and day out. Ponies can be so exceptionally discriminatory. "
"I'm aware." There was a glint of sardonicism lining the words, measuredly slicing the unicorn's hubris of bitterness.
"No need to be fresh, Spike." A pensive hoof met a pondering snout thrice in a tap, laying way for: "Though, I do suppose I have the propensity to ramble about very similar subjects."
"Ramble's a bit of an understatement, if you ask me." Similar sardonicism debuted once more, blazoning an overture of a snide underhandedness. Though his tone had disavowed his intended surreptitiousness, as he seemed prone to do.
"Hush yourself. If I were not so fettered to lassitude, I'd ensure you become erudite in obedience."
"You wouldn't." Equipping a guileless smirk, the dragon fervidly fluttered his eyelids.
"As much of a nuisance as you can be, you do know me too well." She relinquished a somewhat sheepish smile to her companion, as if raising the white flag of surrender. A grandiose influx of triumphant sentiments surged throughout the youth.
"In any case, you shouldn't be so unhappy all the time."
All through their prabble, they had been keeping a steadfastly brisk pace. As each trice diligently marched along, the two grew nearer and nearer to their destination, now clearly visible.
"At last!" exclaimed Twilight, now instilled with a new sense of a more pressing haste. After some brevity of movement, she turned to her companion and inquired "What's got you in such a rut, Spike?"
Spike responded with nothing but a bewildered expression. After a few moments of contemplation, he followed with "Why are you so excited all of a sudden?"
"Just got a wee premonition this place won't be so austere in its practice of discrimination. Well, that, and I've got an insatiable hunger for the most succulent nap."
"Whatever you say."
"And I do recall a good friend once telling me to not be so unhappy all the time, so I thought to heed their counsel."
A most brazen smirk overtook the expanse of Spike's physiognomy. Endeavoring to strike his intonation as sonorous as possible, he said "Well, I don't mean to brag..."
"Don't let this inflect your ego," chided Twilight, "I can abstain from flattery with as much alacrity as I can impart it."
"What's said is said."
"You've got me there."
Through yet more otiose, colloquial bile, the two made into Ponyville with a new resolve to finally meet their goals.
In response to Musing of an Inquisitive Soul and the contained viewpoint on unicorns,
I find enough reverence for the authorial genius behind the musings so as to not impugn her intelligence or standing, as I have been known to do, but have you (you being the collective--as in, unicorns' rights activists) not yet suffered the revelation that the legislation restricting the reign of unicorns is bred of necessity, not fear?
"Oh, but Diascribe," I hear you vomit, "how is it necessary?"
I'm glad you asked, peon. You see, do you not cage the beast lest it to bar it from mustering the temerity to rip you limb from unsightly limb? Sure, you incur the wrath of the opinionated radicals and the beast itself, but you've preserved your own well-being, as well as countless others. Is that not what matters?
Has the Great Unicorn Slaughter (or the GUS, as it has come to be monikered) already fallen from your mutual recollections? It was but 20 years ago--only a paltry handful of time. Need I remind you that the Unicorns were not the victims? The Magic Wars? Even the Earth Pony Enslavement Crisis? I am astounded at your forgetfulness. Simply stupefied and flabbergasted. It's quite the feat to siphon me speechless, and congratulations.
But in the past 10 years--the past 10 that magic has been monitored--we have yet to witness another massive unicorn homicide craze. Sure, the belligerence of unicorns and their supporters are just brewing and stewing, but the magic-related crime rate has plummeted by an astonishing 63%. Sixty-three percent. That's more than fifty. That's more than half. That's, in fact, a majority. You're welcome.
Ungrateful, is what you are. Thankless ingrates. Here we think of none other than the majority's health and all we receive is cantankerous lambastation. Praise the fates I don't have spacial allotment to verbally slaughter each and every one of you ignoble curmudgeons with the most unbridled and scalding verbiage I could conjure. I could supplicate for such an allowance, but I don't happen to be the pleading sort. You're very welcome.
With listless regard,
Diascribe.
--"Authors' Altercations" from The Biweekly Post
