I suppose if I wasn’t about to lose consciousness and was in an objective mood, I would have remarked on how it was odd that a mental clinic doubled as a prison, but that was not the case. I would have passed out if I was not so shocked by the stentorian shouts of Fear and Suffering and the resounding ricochet of Discord’s merriment off my ears. Quickly, two of the massive pegasus guards rushed to Pinkie Pie and lifted her off her hooves. Then they spirited her away from the courtroom, which was silent as far as the mortal ponies knew. The Terrible Three gloated in the form of impromptu epic poetry inaudible to mortal ears.

So they placed her in shackles and drove her by carriage to a place above Canterlot. Like the city of Cloudsdale, the Equestrian Mental Institution, or the EMI, sat in the clouds. It was a huge castle with an outer wall that reached to a height of some three hundred feet. Its walls stretched so that its perimeter was two miles in length. Its thickness, made from many layers of steel and iron and stone was eighty feet thick. Construction began on the fortress in the year nine hundred and forty A.B. and lasted until seven hundred and sixty three A.B. (The abbreviation A.B. of course meaning “Ante Bellum” or “before [Nightmare Moon’s] war” for those who are unfamiliar with the study of Equestrian history) Originally, it was meant to defend the capital against an aerial attack from the griffons, but no such attack ever came. However, in nine A.B. when Nightmare Moon began the great war against Princess Celestia, it became the most fought over fortification in all the war.

As The Histories will tell you, three whole years of the war were spent on Princess Luna’s siege of the stronghold. In the third year, Nightmare Moon finally mustered a force of seventy thousand fierce pegasus ponies and launched an airborne assault against the citadel. I, myself fought for Celestia in that battle and regret to say that I took many lives. The first assault began on the morning of the twenty fifth day of the twelfth month and lasted until the night, whereupon the enemy’s forces were forced to withdraw. The battle continued on like this for six more days, and on the dawn of the seventh day -when Princess Celestia was caught off guard; having to raise the sun- Nightmare Moon finally captured the walls and took the fort. On that day, even Princess Celestia herself was wounded and forced to flee before she was captured and the war lost. I surrendered along with two hundred of the original three thousand charged with guarding the fort. Today, that battle is called “The Battle of Fort Necrodie,” because it was bloodiest of battle in Equestrian history. I remained the prisoner of the enemy until the dawn of the tenth year of the war, when Princess Celestia could not bear to throw any more ponies into the fray, and used the Elements of Harmony to banish her sister forever in the moon.

After the war, the fortress continued to guard the capital for another two hundred years; seeing nothing unusual. Then, as The Histories will tell you, in two hundred and seven P.B. (this abbreviation means Post Bellum or “after the war.” I suppose I should at last mention that B.L. means “Before Luna,” and refers to the time before Celestia and Luna usurped Discord. I believe that I failed to mention that in my first chapter when making a reference to the fighting power of the unicorns in the war of five hundred B.L.), Princess Celestia issued the legendary Edict of Peace which effectively ended any future possibility of war in the eastern part of the planet. To this day, there has not been a war since the final defeat of the diamond dogs in early two hundred and seven P.B. With the abolishment of the war, the princess ordered a massive renovation of the fortress and turned it into a maximum-security prison, which housed the most vicious criminals of all time until eighteen hundred and sixty four P.B. when the violent crime rate in Equestria had dropped so low that it was no longer necessary for such a facility.

It was about this time that a great deal of research in the field of psychology was being done. Though it had been mocked endlessly by scientists and magicians alike as a fruitless and unofficial field of medicine, a stallion by the name of Viktor Kasparov (who would become the great-great-great grandfather of the bearer of the Element of Generosity), was able to present the results of his research to the Royal Scientific Society at Canterlot, and cemented psychology as a respected field of medical science in Equestria. Under his support, the useless prison was transformed into a mental health clinic in eighteen hundred and eighty five P.B.

Now Kasparov had come from a long line of wealthy mages and was deeply rooted in the arts. He established a secret order of mages called the Knights in the Service of the Moon who trained to form the most elite, handpicked magi that the world had ever seen. Under his guidance they researched many ways to deal with psychological disorders. Though he was a kind pony who had only his patients’ best interests in mind, his successor by no means had the same goals. Kasparov died and a new leader came to command the Knights named Mauve Brilliance. Now Kasparov, coming from a line of mages, was very adamant on compromising the two fields of science and magic. Yet his desire to help ponies was greater than that and in his life he only had time to fulfill the former goal. His hope to combine magic and science would be left up to Brilliance who had time to both study the arts and work as a doctor of psychology at the EMI.

Kasparov’s dream was recognized in part. He wanted to combine the two fields to help sick ponies. So, under Brillince’s guidance, the order developed the art of manipulating minds through combinations of magic and rhetoric. Even today, they control many powerful nobles in the court of the princesses. Under his leadership, they would discover only nineteen years after the foundation of the order that they could alter the content of a pony’s thoughts if they were able to break into their mind. This ability had already been discovered by the divinities millennia ago (as you may have guessed, considering that Fear was about to use that power on Breezy Sky if Pinkie had not stopped her), but they never shared this power with mortals. It was at this time that Mauve Brilliance announced that a new era (or aeon as he called it) had dawned. The previous Aeon of Osiris had passed and the Aeon of Horus had come. Thus, the early years of the Aeon of Horus truly saw revolutionary and groundbreaking advancements in the field of magic; at least for the order. Notably, they were able to develop a spell which would increase the lifespan of a pony. Today it is still being improved upon and its effects have become considerable.

Mauve Brilliance’s methods of training mages were quite Spartan, to say the least. Just to be considered, one had to pass a rigorous selection process, which nearly every mage in the kingdom was submitted to, whether or not they were aware of it. After that, he gathered up the select few: the magi of the kingdom that showed the most promise. This did not occur too often. Even among the unicorns who are the only eastern race capable of using magic, “gifted magi” - that is to say, those who can use magic beyond the standard of levitating objects heavier than a thimble and thread – are hard to find. But he did not lower the bar. About every six years, he finally had gathered enough to hold what he called a tournament.

The Knights in Service of the Moon found these gifted magi and kidnapped them; spiriting them away to a system of chambers under the Equestrian Mental Institution which was the order’s headquarters. Essentially, the tournament that they participated in was a magician’s fight to the death. Kill or be killed. Each time about six died and one was chosen among them. That mage was the elite of the elite, the best adolescent that Equestria had to offer in raw magical talent. Yet in the words of our beloved princess of the sun, a mage must “learn to tame [their raw] abilities through focused study.” However, unlike Twilight Sparkle who was nurtured and loved by Princess Celestia, Brilliance did everything short of torturing his students. On a regular basis, he put them through life-threatening situations, forced them to perform immoral acts, and made them forsake everything they held dear.

After they had been weakened; confused and traumatized by the deeds which they had performed, Brilliance used his skill to break into their minds and “break” them. He reformatted the way that they perceived and encoded information. One whose mind is broken often becomes a new person. The process of breaking a mind involves tampering and often eliminating a majority of memories and implanting new experiences into the victim. For that victim, the process can be likened to taking a fish out of the water and telling it that it will not receive any more water until it learns to enjoy the air. The victim is often rendered senseless for a good amount of time, and recovery usually lasts a few months to a year.

After doing this, Brilliance then rigorously trained them in the dark arts; forcing them to study for most of the day and practice through most of the night. Unfortunately, this practice often required “practice dummies” as Brilliance called them. These dummies were the patients admitted to the EMI. Finally, after many years of physical abuse and hard training (provided that they survived. He occasionally pushed them too hard), Brilliance admitted his student into the order. This practice of training elite magi continues to this day. Brilliance eventually was elected arch-mage by the royal council of magi in nineteen fifty seven P.B. and secretly defrauded many in order to fund the goals of the Knights in Service of the Moon.

At the age of one hundred and twenty seven, Mauve Brilliance saw that his death was coming and he looked among the Knights for a successor. When it became obvious that he was doing this, it nearly caused a schism and there was fighting amongst the members of the order for two years. In the end, they chose a young unicorn who excelled greatly among her peers. Because she was only nineteen, the elder Knights (who are called the black sages) believed that they could use her like a puppet. When Brilliance finally passed on his knowledge and goals to his successor, Amethyst Star, in 2010 P.B. – the very same year which Nightmare Moon returned – Brilliance shrouded her and himself in a secret inner sanctum, directly under the center of the EMI. Unfortunately, the spells he put around this room prevented me from eavesdropping so I am unaware of the truth of his intentions. Whatever secrets he gave her made her very powerful indeed and the black sages found they could not control her.

With Brilliance’s knowledge (I hesitate to call it wisdom because of how twisted the stallion was) she formed many awesome spells and enchantments which established her as the greatest of mages in the order. Yet unlike her predecessor, she was a little more subtle about showing off in public and never gained the title of arch mage – of course that was only part of her failure. She would be defeated in a duel by Twilight Sparkle in 2035 P.B.- Amethyst’s greatest achievement would be becoming the headmistress of Princess Celestia’s Academy for gifted Unicorns. I should note that Pinkie Pie was convicted of ponyslaughter in 2014 and placed under the care of Dr. Amethyst Star, caretaker of the EMI. This is an account of the events surrounding the Equestrian Mental Institution that concern this tale of Pinkie Pie.

Although for the duration of this tale, I have been writing solely about what I have seen and heard, for the purposes of your understanding, henceforth, I will be speaking with omniscience concerning the thoughts and feelings of those in this story. Rest assured, I have made neither assumptions nor guesses about the things which I will tell you, and everything I will write here truthfully came to pass. I have done much research into the things that I witnessed and simply by telling you only what I saw at the time will not be sufficient to relate these occurrences. I must make logical inferences based upon what I know to relate to you the passion of Pinkie Pie.

♦       ♦       ♦

Darkness was all that Pinkie saw. The guards had shackled and blindfolded her. She had been travelling for two hours through the air to a place with unknown whereabouts. Every so often a gust of wind would jar the carriage and throw her against its sides roughly. The manacles were leaving marks on her forelegs and she was accumulating a few bruises. The bench that she sat on was made of unpadded and unsanded wood. It was rougher than the rocking chariot and she occasionally received a painful splinter in the rear or hip. This forced her to lie on the ground for the majority of the trip.

As she lie there with nothing to do, she thought about what it meant for these things to happen to her. After she thought over everything that had happened, she came to a conclusion. She was willing to see through her punishment. Though it was not fair, for she was innocent, it was just. Justice, though sometimes unfair, was essential and righteous for both the individual and the society. Hitherto she had done nothing wrong and for her to try to escape would be to break the law. Thus escape was brushed out of her thoughts.

This was not to say that she was not afraid. A mental institution sounded different than a jail. she was unfamiliar with what went on inside of them. Unfortunately for her, this was worse than if she knew what troubles were to befall her; for the mind is the greatest weapon. Ponies will never create a sword or spear which could ever compare to the damage that the mind can do. This is because the soul has an infinite capacity for imagination: to create possible worlds where innumerable events may occur.

The mind is like a double sided sword. It can be used against one’s enemies or against oneself. The imagination can be used to invent a machine which will reduce the workload of a nation by fifty percent, but it can also be used to destroy a pony. This is because the soul houses the spirit. Now the spirit is the part of a pony which can comprehend higher morality, but it is also the very being of a pony. The spirit is that part of a pony which makes that pony who she truly is. The body and mind can be altered, but pony can remain the same. Yet if the spirit is reformed, the pony becomes a new person; completely different than the one before. The mind, using imagination, can create terrifying fantasies (which seem absolutely logical to the imaginer) to which no torture could ever compare. These fantasies have the power to alter the soul if they persist too long. Now there are many ways to kill a pony: flesh burns, bones break, but to break a pony’s spirit is to truly destroy her.

So Fear was with Pinkie. The pink pony did not know, but she was using the power of inception: slowly and subtly weaving ideas into her head. “What if they do this to you? Oh, that would be awful! What if they put you in a place like that? Ooh, don’t even think about that.”

Pinkie, accepting the creations of Fear as her own conceptions, was destroying herself from the inside in a way that no pony ever could. The two hours passed by like years. Each second brought her closer to those agonizing impossibilities which she thought that she could be subjected.

After this eternity had passed, she felt the carriage bounce up and down as it landed on the cloud. A second later, she heard the door open. Suddenly, she was heaved out of the car and landed on the soft surface of the clouds. As they dragged her along the forgiving soft surface by the color around her neck, one of the guards said to her unkindly, “Don’t get used to this cloud.” He gave a laugh. They stopped at the entrance and mashed some numbers on a keypad.

One of the guards roughly grasped her blindfold and ripped if off. Before she was blinded by the sunlight, she glimpsed the massive fortress that was the EMI. Then she shut her eyes. The stallion on the left grasped her eyelids and pried them open. In spite of her eyes not having time to adjust, he forced her to face the sun and its agonizing brightness. “Get a good look, b----. This is the last time you’ll ever see it.” He paused for a moment and ignored her protests and attempts to look away. “Time’s up.” He thrust the blindfold back over her eyes.

The large iron gates opened up with a creak that shook the foundation. As she passed through them, she immediately felt the temperature drop to a very cold temperature. The gates closed behind her again. While there was a breeze outside, there was an eerie silence within the EMI’s confines. Every now and then, Pinkie thought she heard the faint sound of a muffled shriek or somepony begging or pleading for something to cease, but maybe it was just her imagination. Her escorts stopped and opened a door to the right. Then they drug her inside.

She heard the burly guard on her left say, “Well, Karon, she’s all yours.”

A chilling female voice answered, “Thank you gentlecolts. You are dismissed.” She heard the two walk out and the door shut.”

When there was a moment of silence, Pinkie was about to say something, yet before she could. Her blindfold was taken off just in time to see a two inch needle pierce her flank just beside her cutie mark. She flinched and squealed in shock and pain. “Ah! What did you do that for?” She looked up and saw the administrator.

The unicorn looked as though she were only in her mid-twenties, but one could see her and tell that she was far older than that. She had a pale coat and a white mane. One could not discern the color of her eyes, but they glowed like fire. Her features belonged to those of a young mare, yet her countenance displayed a mental weariness that one did not see except for in old ponies. Her horn glowed with a black aura which explained how she was holding the syringe.

Pinkie felt a strange sensation creep up her body from her flank. It was then that the unicorn answered. “That was a muscle relaxer.” She dropped the syringe with her magic into a biohazard waste bin. “I find that it is a bit more calming for you to be limp than restrained by fetters.” Saying this, she used her magic to open the locks binding her and remove the chains.

There was a hint of kindness in the unicorn’s voice. Yet the feeling which had crept up her body was anything but calming. She could feel every part of her body normally, but when she tried to move anything below her neck, nothing responded. This feeling of not being able to move was alarming to say the least. She stifled another gasp as the unicorn levitated her into a chair inside the dimly lit room. Now slumped into a very uncomfortable sitting position that was more suited for bipeds, she tried again to move, but none of her obeyed her will.

She looked forward and saw a large mirror. She examined the reflections but saw nothing except for a dimly lit room made of stone. To her left, the other pony retrieved a small cart with an assortment of barber’s tools.

The unicorn of indiscernible age said, “My name is Acheron. It is my duty to prepare you for your treatment here at the Equestrian Mental Institution. Now I see no point in explaining this to an insane pony, but we cannot have you strangling yourself, so first off, you mane must be shaved.”

Saying this, she grasped an electric shaver and clicked in on. The buzzing sound brought to life the reality of what was about to happen. Now Pinkie was not like Rarity. She did not fuss over every unappealing aesthetic. But the idea of losing, not some, but all of her hair was certainly not as trivial as having a few split ends. “Wait. Please, don’t… you don’t have to.”

“Ah, but I do Miss Pinkamena. We follow strict guidelines here.” She placed the buzzing tool at the base of her mane. “And those guidelines will be followed whether they please you or not.” The unkind instrument’s sound changed as it began to bald her.

“Please, stop. I wouldn’t do anything like that!” The stern unicorn did not respond after this. Despite Pinkie’s frantic pleading for mercy, she was not going to receive any. Pinkie desperately tried to thrash, but nothing moved. Her head was held still by a powerful force of magic which was like two iron bars on the sides of her face. Unforgivingly, the buzzing continued up her head. Soon she felt her locks fall on her sides.

Within a few moments, she began to sob and tears welled up in her eyes. She felt a sting of embarrassment as the salty waters seeped from her eyes in front of a near-total stranger. She tried to hold them back, but when she saw another lock of hair fall, she stopped bothering and cried. Her weeping first consisted of light sobs, but it soon turned into a loud wailing with tears freely streaming down her cheeks.

As her oppressor began to complete her task, she said, “As you can see, resignation is your only option here. You would do well to remember that. It will make the rest of your days much easier. Ah, but here I am giving advice to a person who legally should not be able to understand logic.”

With that, she finished. Stepping into the darkness of the back of the room she said, “Well, I think after that display of foalishness, I should muzzle you. I don’t want you screaming until your vocal cords give out later. She returned into the light holding a black muzzle cover with a strap at the back.

Seeing this, Pinkie protested loudly again, “Wait, that’s not-”

In one quick motion, her mouth was forcefully shut by a tendril of magic, the muzzle cover was thrust over her mouth, and the strap was secured around her the back of her head and tightened for snugness.

“There; at least, now we can both have some relative quiet.” This was hardly the case. Pinkie still made noises through the gag, though they were unintelligible. She disappeared into the darkness again and this time brought out a white article of clothing. Once she unfolded it, the article clearly was a straitjacket. When Pinkie uttered more muffled protests, she said, “What? Surely you saw this coming.”

With that, Pinkie said farewell to any more hopes for a comfortable position. Her forelegs were thrust into the holes of the jacket and fastened so that they were crisscrossed about her front. The unfeeling unicorn then brought Pinkie to the ground on her right side and admired her handiwork. I too forced myself to examine her. It was a pitiful sight: a maneless, weeping earth pony scared and tormented.

The pale pony then looked up and appeared as if she remembered something. She walked into the back of the room once more. Pinkie looked up and squinted to discover if she could see anything. What more could she do to her? What other agonies did she have to suffer? As she gazed into the darkness, her eyes finally adjusted and she saw what looked like a faint red ember in the corner of the room. She looked more intently and she saw the figure of the pony.

The white-maned pony then returned with an iron rod whose tip was burning red. The unicorn looked at the iron and then gazed at her again. She opened her mouth and began a short lecture. “The cutie mark is a symbol of identity. When one acquires it, a pony becomes distinguished among her peers. It is what defines her and makes her distinct. Yet it is also a symbol of purpose. Your cutie mark in particular must symbolize that you love to enjoy parties or something to that effect. While mine…” The mare turned to her side. Her cutie mark resembled a river. Yet the river was on fire. “…symbolizes a goal which is quite different. At the Equestrian Mental Institution, all the patients have no purpose but to become well. And until such a time, they have no identity.” She smirked. “Therefore, it’s time for your cutie mark to go bye-bye.”

I had been bucked by a strong earth pony once before. I knew what it mean to feel the shock of being hit with something strong. But this was something else. “She wouldn’t dare.” I said aloud. “You wouldn’t dare!”

A horrified look crossed Pinkie’s face. The d--- unicorn was going to blot out her cutie mark with a hot iron, and there was nothing Pinkie could do to stop it. She screamed loudly and thrashed her head side to side. She desperately tried to get her back legs to move. Maybe she would be lucky and the muscle relaxer would soon ware off. She had to do something … anything to flee from the red-hot iron.

As she began to panic, the pale unicorn smiled with a grin. “I told you that resignation is your only option. Just for squirming I think I might hold it down longer than necessary.” With her saying this, the rod descended upon Pinkie.

I yelled once more. This was not happening. I could not watch this. I had to flee. I had to go as far away from this as I could …

Once more I told myself that I was not the one suffering. “I must not abandon her, even if I cannot help her.” I said. I fixed my gaze upon the ungodly scene with stoic eyes and a stone face. I cannot say which was more horrible: the sound of Pinkie screaming louder than any noise she had ever made, or the sound of her sizzling flesh.

Pinkie fainted after her second cutie mark was blotted out. She awoke later in a dark room. The straitjacket and muzzle still bound her, but at least now she could move her lower body. She examined her surroundings. With her eyes now fully adjusted to the near-absolute darkness, she found that she was in a cell made out of granite. In front of her was a steel door. What she did not know was that five other doors each made of reinforced steel were also between her and the dimly lit hallway. She felt around on her left and discovered a dome-like depression in the floor with a hole in its center. She realized then that this was the drain that she would use to relieve herself. She flopped over to the door. In the process, she groveled upon the ground and scraped her burning flank which made her first yelp in surprise. Then she endured the pain and reached the entrance. She found that there was a small panel in the lower half of the door that would slide out from the other side. That was it. Her inspection of everything about her confines was complete.

Not having the sun or moon, or any light at all to tell her what time of day it was made her uneasy. As immeasurable time passed, she lay in a corner and thought of nothing in particular. Yet eventually the thoughts of recent events returned to her and a fresh torrent of tears readied itself for release. But then she paused. Her crinkled eyes opened up and shifted from her right to left side a few times.

She began to think to herself. “What am I doing? I can’t let all this get me down. I get to decide what makes me joyful. Hey, I’m still alive! I didn’t get a death sentence like most ponies would. And justice is being served. What have I to be sad about? Ooh, I get to look forward to my mane will growing back too.”

Suffering stood in the cell with her. She shouted and tried to place miserable thoughts in her head. “What? No, you should be depressed. Your purpose was ripped from you. You have been unfairly judged. You are going to die in an asylum! Be despondent foolish mare.”

But Pinkie brushed away the thoughts that were conceiving seemingly of their own accord. After she began to count her blessings, she hummed a random tune. Soon she was composing a song inside her head; a fanciful and happy tune, which was so full of life.

Suffering shouted once more. “What is this folly? Does this mare have no reason? Fear, enter hither and see the madness of our enemy.”

Thus Fear entered through the walls of the cell and stood alongside Suffering. “Be without fear, my leader.” The black alicorn said. “Do not assume that our opponent will be joyful for so long. The agony of time will consume her. Loneliness will drive her to true madness and create a monster of bitterness out of this mare. And that’s just the first few weeks. There's a special surprise afterwards.” She addressed the third being not yet present. “Discord, enter hither and see the misery of our opponent.”

Discord appeared, not with a flash as he did when visible to mortals, but likewise through the walls of the compartment. Seeing Pinkie, bound and muzzled, he exclaimed, “Ah, so here is the great enemy which you both complained so much about. Well how about now? Looks like we win again. There was never any doubt in my mind, but you two constantly worried about it. Harmony can only exist for so long before I come in and break everything up again. Now if only we could take care of Celestia we’d be set for life.”

Pinkie Pie continued to hum her happy tune in spike of her miserable situation. Discord gasped and after a moment asked, “Why is she doing that?”

Suffering answered, “I must confess that I have not been altogether successful in my department.”

He fidgeted. “Well can’t you do something about it? I mean it’s crazy that she’s doing that and not crying her eyes out like anypony else would.”

Fear answered, “Patience Discord. Suffering’s powers are great and omnipotent, yet their effects are not instant. We will watch and wait and see with glee the pain of the situation overtake her.”

So the time passed by; Pinkie having no power gauge its length. However, she did not become discouraged. She knew that joy is not an emotion but an active choice. Yet she was all the company she had, and soon she became very lonely. She did not allow herself to feel unhappy, though as the time passed it became increasingly more difficult. And then there was the subject of her homeostasis. She had no clue how long it had been but she knew it had been more than a couple of days and she felt extremely hungry. She wanted badly to be able to yell to see if she could receive so much as a few blades of grass or a dying daisy. Yet the muzzle prevented her from making any more than moans of discomfort. Nor was her rumbling stomach any consolation to her condition.

More time flew by and she started to feel very week. While occasionally, she used to move about her cell, which would cheer her up, she now only lay in the corner to conserve what little energy she had left. At one time, she woke up and found that she had an IV running into her leg. Seeing this, she would have exploded with joy if she had the strength. At least they would not let her die of dehydration. Of course, it did not help with the hunger, and she noticed she was starting to become quite thin. Yet still she did her best to remain in good humor.

♦       ♦       ♦

In truth, Pinkie had been imprisoned in the EMI for a month without food and with Suffering trying her best to conquer her. Though Suffering she was making progress, it was minimal. Discord, as usual, was of no help and was off in Canterlot organizing some kind of scandal which brought him glee. It was about this time that Suffering cried out. “My patience wears thin. How long must I suffer this?”

Fear appeared alongside of her. “Peace, Suffering, look now. Your efforts are about to bear fruit by helping me succeed; for without your exertion I would fail.”

Suffering looked curious. “Fail at what?”

In answer, there was a sound heard within the hallway that contained Pinkie’s cell. The sound of doors opening echoed through the corridor that had remained silent like death since Pinkie’s imprisonment. Down it walked two burly guards. They arrived at Pinkie’s confine and pressed in numbers on a keypad next to the first door to unlock the six barriers. They stepped into the darkness and found Pinkie in a corner.

“Get up, foal. It’s time for your treatment.” One said cruelly. This was a sadist’s command because there was no way that Pinkie would be able to stand normally, weakened as she was; much less on two legs. “Alright, Moloch, guess we have to carry the crazy filly.”

The other guard nodded in agreement and they grabbed her by her back legs and drug her out of the cell; her face scraping against the rough granite. Down the twisting hallways Pinkie was dragged. She seemed to pass the same corridor multiple times as each one seemed to have the same number of doors and the same monotonous surroundings. She quickly lost her sense of direction in the labyrinth. They came to a series of steps and dragged her down those. She turned her face to the side, but her temple and cheeks were still struck by the hard, iron stairs; giving her many bruises. When she made muffled protests, she was again ignored. Nor were the steps a fleeting tribulation. They went down flight after flight. Pinkie tried to count them but the pain made her lose count at twenty.

Finally, they came to the bottom of the last flight and stopped. Pinkie looked behind her and saw a pair of large double doors whose exit was not colored grey like every other one that she had passed through. There were no handles on them and they appeared to be made of out a different type of material than iron; a material that was much harder. This one was colored black and had a faded, heavily stylized inscription written upon its doors in red.

I read this and at first was at a loss. I believed that I had never seen such writing before. The guards stood there for a moment as though they were unsure of what to do. So while they did nothing, I gazed intently at the text; racking my brain for any hint of what this might signify. I ventured deep into the confines of my soul; checking each chamber which contained a memory closely. Finally, I came to a series of memories which seemed to resonate with this writing. I mused over my days when I was a carnal being; divine, but like the current princesses, able to interact with the physical world.

I remembered spending a great deal of time in the royal library shortly after it reached the peak of its glory; brimming with the greatest collection of knowledge the world had ever before seen. I peered over the words of a very ancient tome which predated the war with the dragons (the most ancient documented historical event). The book I read contained the words of a secret and magical language; a language that held power seven times greater than the three commonplace magical languages combined. After I freed myself from the carnal restrictions at the age of seven hundred and eighty eight, I finally was able to learn this language. Yet its intricacy made me quickly forget it. For a mortal to understand it was unthinkable. Yet it was obvious that the inscription had been made by a mortal unicorn by the way that the words were scribed. The thought of such a thing: a mortal holding such godlike power was terrible.

Tearing my focus from such possibilities, I thought back to what the words meant. Eventually, I was able to transliterate the text letter by letter. As I read the first word, “Trans,” I breathed a tremendous sign of relief. The second word “me” confirmed my suspicions. The inscriber knew of the language, but he did not know it. Rather, the language was simply a now archaic language spoken once by ponies with which I was quite familiar. It was only that the language was transcribed using the letters of this most powerful language.

Yet as I continued to read the message, the relief that no mortal had broken the code soon dissipated; for the message itself was purely … ominous. “Trans me erit nihil sed obsequium/ Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.” I spoke its translation aloud: “Through me, there will be nothing but submission./ Abandon all hope, you who enter.”

No later than when I spoke these words, the black doors opened inwards. And the guards dragged Pinkie Pie inside without question. They brought her into what might have been the center of the room (the only light was from the dim lamps in the hallway), dropped her there, and left. The doors, shut behind them. The room was now absolutely dark. Pinkie looked up in anticipation.

As if to answer her curiosity, nine glowing lights appeared around the room, which emanated from unicorn horns. The horn bearers themselves, however, were the objects of interest. The blue glow from their horns cast an azure filter on all of them. Each was dressed in black leather which contrasted with their ghostly white coats. Their manes were of different colors. Some of them had long lack manes and other had blond manes, and two were bald. Each of them wore an emblazoned symbol on their chests that looked like a dragon. Below the dragon on each of them were the words “Sapientes Nigri.” [The Black Sages] Three in the center of the nine were clothed in armor in addition to their leather clothes. Those also wore a necklace of a six-pointed star.

Their faces were fearsome. They stared at her, frowning in menacing silence. The one standing in the middle who had a silver mane was the most terrible. His eyes were full of contempt. As Pinkie stared into his eyes, she felt completely paralyzed. When he spoke, his voice was deeply accented as though he were from the far west where the languages sound the most harsh when spoken. “Number five this year, welcome to the outer sanctum and consider yourself fortunate. You have been deemed so ill that we moved you up the list for treatment. Since its creation, this room has been a sacred and holy place of healing. Excluding you, eight hundred and eighty seven have passed through its doors and all were healed. It has therefore remained sacred, and you will not desecrate it. Tell me then, why are you here?” A flash of his horn removed her muzzle for the time. When Pinkie did not answer, he raised his voice only slightly, but that slight increase was enough to make her jump. “Answer me, wicked mare.”

Pinkie Pie searched for an answer and said the first thing that came to mind. “Because they say I killed a pony.”

The aggressor continued in his raised tone. “No, Five, you are here because your brain is filled with thoughts that have lead you astray. We are you to provide a remedy for that.”

Pinkie was confused, “I don’t…”

The silver-maned sage’s horn triggered something and the room was lit just bright enough that Pinkie could see all the features of the room. The sanctum was circular. Around its walls were many different signs and symbols, words which she did not comprehend, and creatures of forms which she had never before seen. But the most conspicuous was a painting on another set of massive double doors in the back of the room. On them there was a gargantuan panting of a big black dragon who had many ponies begging at his feet. His jaws were held upward and in his right claw which was raised directly above his mouth, he was holding a terrified pony whom apparently he was about to devour.

Looking away from it fast, she looked for the source of light which she found was below her. On the floor, she was sitting in a great circle which had a unicursal hexagram (a type of six-pointed star similar to Twilight Sparkle's cutie mark) inscribed into it. Also within it were many symbols of different shapes which she could not understand. Also, there were several words written in the same script as on the door behind her. Yet I gasped as I realized that these words were likely genuine as I did not recognize them.

The room darkened at little again as the stallions released the magic on their horns, leaving only the light from the circle. Again the terrible unicorn in the center of the semicircle of ponies now around Pinkie spoke. “You are here to have your thoughts purified. Remember the agonies which you have faced until now: you are no one, you are hungry, you are hopelessly friendless. All of this was done in preparation to weaken your mind. But rejoice; for today is the day of your revitalization. When you leave this room, you will no longer be who you are now. They may even release you for good behavior.”

Again, Pinkie spoke, “But what are you-”

“I am aware that you do not understand my words or how we shall bring about this promise. Your mind is now in disarray. We have been charged by our mistress with the task of breaking your mind and putting it back together.”

This frightened Pinkie very much, though she still did not understand. “But I-”

The stallion screamed with a powerful voice that did not sound equine, “Enough!" Once more the speech blocking muzzle was thrust back onto her and refastened. "We begin the ceremony now. Submit quickly and it shall be complete quickly. Resist and your experience here shall be torturous beyond imagination!” As soon as Pinkie heard this, she saw the nine unicorns’ horns glow and suddenly she felt tendrils of magic stretch her out and hold her head and forelegs down on the ground. Then more magic emanated from their horns like a vapor and disappeared when it reached her head.

Suddenly, she began to hear what sounded like a symphony. There seemed to be a resounding piano and the sound of violins and several other instruments. Then she began to hear the voice of a choir. What made her very uneasy about the sound of the choir though was that she could hear nine distinct voices; one of which sounded very much like the center pony in the room. She tried to shift, but found that her body was held fast by magic. The tune itself was a very disquieting melody. It made her imagine immense black castles in lands of darkness and the terrible and awesome witch-kings that ruled in them. She no longer saw what was truly before her, but she seemed to see the things which she envisioned within her head. This melody continued on for just over a minute.

Then the unexpected introduction of a tremendously powerful pipe organ startled her. The visions which she experienced changed to a view of a great door at the end of a black hallway. Upon the door were written the words, “To Pinkie’s Soul.” For some reason, she felt like she had been in this place before and like she had opened this door many times. Yet this familiarity soon turned to dread when she listened more to the potent music in her ears. She felt a great surge of fear (both dread and terror) well up inside of her for a reason which she did not know. She wanted nothing more than to run from the door in front of her as the great music reverberated in her. She had an undeniable feeling in her gut that she should not ever pass through the door in a situation such as this. She tried to turn and run, but she found that she was still paralyzed by magic.

Then the magical force which bound her forced her to look to her left. The sight before her made her want to shriek. Right beside of her was a black alicorn, but not just any alicorn. She had met this one before. This alicorn was Fear, the goddess in whose face she once laughed. The deity placed her hoof which was cold like ice upon Pinkie’s (in this vision she had no straight jacket or muzzle. Her captors did not require such things). Then as much as she did not want her to –she really didn’t want her to- Fear forced Pinkie to place her hoof upon the knob of the door and turn it. The music was now at its loudest and most intense peak. The alicorn smiled with the most devilish and sadistic grin and forced her to open the door.

The symphony suddenly picked up to a wild speed and became jarring and cacophonous while maintaining an orderly meter. The sounds of a guitar and drums were added and the sound of the piano seemed to trickle over her like waves of glass. Simultaneously, a myriad of energies and images and thoughts and emotions and concepts and the feelings of the nine unicorns assaulted her with traumatizing force. They swept over her with unstoppable might and it felt like her entire being was being lacerated from its very core; like a thousand knives were slicing into every part of her. She heard the nine voices screeching out horrible and strange words: paradoxes, poetic lamentations and hateful cries.

On and on the feeling went and did not pass from her. She tried as hard as she could but could not scream. It was like her worst nightmares exacerbated and intensified a thousand times over were brought to life so that she could live through them. She did not know how long this went on for. Even I do not know; for I was witnessing the same distorted world that she was.

Yet after a number of eternities had passed, it all ended. Pinkie awoke from her waking dream screaming through her muzzle as loud as she could with no desire ever to stop.

All of the unicorns were out of breath and appeared exhausted. The aggressor in the middle spoke through heavy breaths. “Well, I will give it to you wretch. You have no quit in you. We shall withdraw for now. But we will break you tomorrow. You will not leave this room until you are broken." Saying this, they all withdrew one by one. The last unicorn’s horn flashed and she blacked out. Next Chapter: The Endgame: Checkmate Estimated time remaining: 41 Minutes