The parade couldn’t come sooner.

Still, I stretched my hind legs, grasped a spare, sturdy branch, and lifted myself upwards. The branches soon numbered under me, so I took a seat amidst the leaves. From the distance I could see where the wall of ponies started and separated, and where the royal guards held the lines to make a path. I watched them walk back and forth, meandering on the sidelines, fiddling with their spears, flirting with eager residents. They huddled in groups, their eyes watching and their grips steady. They monitored not the empty trail behind them, but everything else.

I knew I was hidden. And this view, undeniably, was perfect.

It was the noise that first alerted me, the screaming.

I kept watch on the trail, on the chariot racing down, and from where I sat, I could see her as clear as the sun rising, as clear as a bleeding pinprick. Then the confetti exploded like webs sparkling in the sunlight.

“She’s here!”

Once, when I was a filly, I tried to catch a glimpse of Princess Celestia parading through the streets on her sun-encrusted chariot. I edged my way through the crowds like a thread on a needle, slithering between ponies with fillies and colts standing atop them, and I bit my lip and pressed forward, trying to ignore the fact that my parents didn’t want to come.

“You should be studying,” they had said. They wanted me to be a doctor.

After a while, I came to a standstill. The crowd was too dense. Still, I tried to push through. And there was confetti, confetti everywhere.

“So beautiful.”

I started scrambling then.

“So regal.”

I needed to see her.

“The epitome of a goddess."

I pushed and pushed and when I broke through the mass, my breath caught in my throat. Empty streets. The imprint of wheels. The princess’ majestic mane billowing far far away, like the hoof struggling above water that no one sees, like a ship too far from shore.

Then, it was over.

And still, the confetti rained down.

Just like the tears on my face.



It was a second coming. Her chariot came closer and I readied myself.

All unicorns aspire to be like Twilight Sparkle. I was no different. But unlike the rest of us, Twilight Sparkle had an unfathomable amount of magic. My own magic came in destructive bursts, like detonations in a construction zone. It wasn’t steady, wasn’t precise like a doctor’s was supposed to be when levitating objects. Still, I studied.

I poured over books, heavy tomes of anatomy and biology. I didn’t want to be a doctor. Still, I studied.

Did you know that unicorn magic comes not from the horn, but from the tip of the forehead? And their magic could be rendered completely useless not if you cut off their horn, but if you cut particular arteries connected to it? I know this because I read this. Because doctors have to fix every kind of magical monstrosity. And don’t get me started on pegasi wings.

Perhaps, with all this studying, I’d finally be able to help. Perhaps, I could save ponies.

…But I wasn’t able to become a doctor.

Twilight Sparkle, the hope of the nation, the savior of Equestria.

He said I could become a hero too. Just like her.

The colors in front of me burst like a confectionery display. Confetti and streamers flew in the sky. The chariot turned and I could see the charioteers speeding, their rush kicking dust in the air. Finally, finally, I caught a true glimpse of her, immaculate in her long-flowing cerulean dress, a golden tiara adorned on her head; she was waving obviously, and though I couldn’t see her smiling, I knew she was, and she was everything a filly could hope for.

She truly was beautiful.

Regal.

The epitome of goddess.

I wiped the dust out of my eyes. Kept my sights clear.

I’ve heard that Twilight Sparkle could have been anything, but Princess Celestia adorned her with sovereignty. Either way, she looked ethereal...but she was just a pony.

Breathe in.

The chariot couldn’t arrive sooner. Still, this view was unquestionably perfect.

Breathe out.

...Now.

I’m not like Twilight Sparkle. My magic comes in bursts.

Ready.

I’m not a doctor.

Aim.

But I’ll still save people.











Fire.























The best means to utterly and completely break something is if you know every single way to fix it.






The noise was deafening.