I've apparently been missing for days.

When they found me, I was half-drowned, much to my chagrin you understand. I wasn't trying to half-drown myself, I was trying to whole-drown myself.

Of course, I couldn't let her know that, but she figured it out, as she always does. Flutter Nutter is smarter than some ponies give her credit for.

"I have gills, you know," I told her. "For goodness sakes, can't a guy go for a late night swim without being interrogated?"

She wasn't fooled. She never is. Maybe that's one of the things I find so intriguing about her. I can't seem to fool her and yet she still wants me around. I haven't figured that one out either.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked me.

"Not particularly."

"Discord, sometimes it can help to talk about things with a friend."

"What is there to talk about? I told you, it was a beautiful night and I felt like cliff diving and going for a swim to flex my marvellous gills."

"Well, okay. But I'm here if you need to talk."

Then she had covered me with a blanket, almost as if she was tucking me in. I spent the night on her couch, as I sometimes do after Tuesday Tea.

In the morning she was out feeding her animals, but she had left a bound book and a note for me on the coffee table. I reached for the note, feeling bleary eyed and rather sore. Needless to say, jumping off a cliff doesn't do your body any favours, even if you are a near-immortal chaos god. I unfolded the note:

Discord,

I know you don't feel like talking, and I understand, but I've always found that writing about my problems helps me. No one has to read your thoughts but you. I'm not asking you to share this with me. I'm just sharing what has worked for me.

If you start from the beginning, you can usually work out the end.

Your friend,

Fluttershy.

So I did. I started from the beginning.

I don't precisely remember when I first "appeared". My memory of that time is more like dipping in and out of a pool of fuzzy images, but there are some things I do remember.

I don't think I had parents, because I never saw any other draconequui. Scientists have tried to designate me into my own species, but since my official latin name is Draco equus, I am considered a member of the dragon family. I'm not sure how anyone figured that out. I won't let geneticists near me, so I suspect it has something to do with my morphology. But then, why am I called a Dragon Horse? Why not a Lion Horse or Snake Horse?

Dragons of Spike's persuasion are known by the rather unimaginative Draco draco. i.e. whichever taxonomist named them was too damn lazy to think of a species name. Dragons in the far east were given the name Draco tempestas. This is because they are weather workers, and can control the weather, a habit I find extremely laughable. Some ponies say I control the weather, but I don't really. I just make it more interesting.

I suppose I do look as if I'm related to dragons from the far east. In fact, Whinnypedia states that the "The ponies paint the dragon's shape with a horse's head and a snake's tail. Further, there are expressions as 'three joints' and 'nine resemblances' (of the dragon), to wit: from head to shoulder, from shoulder to breast, from breast to tail. These are the joints; as to the nine resemblances, they are the following: his antlers resemble those of a stag, his head that of a camel, his eyes those of a demon, his neck that of a snake, , his scales those of a carp, his claws those of an eagle, his soles those of a tiger, his ears those of a cow " but they cannot walk on their hind legs. And though they may look a bit horse-like, they are not related to ponies, whereas I have a pony head and a Pegasus wing. Quite apart from that, I'm pretty sure I came before Eastern dragons appeared on the scene, because there were none around when I first appeared in the rather barren world.  Then there's the added difference that I am incredibly sleek and handsome, whereas the bodies of Draco tempestas look like someone spilled an incredibly thick noodle across the floor.

I wasn't always such a hottie. I was quite a gangly colt and an even ganglier teenager. I didn't have horns as a colt. Ponies may not realize this, but horns in the dragon family --as well as my own family--  have nothing do with magic. They're secondary sexual characteristics (Please, ladies! Calm yourselves!). So my horns didn't come through until I hit puberty. Oh, what an interesting tale that will be.

But first, let's start with colthood.

The world back then was a rather barren place, with a few plants growing here and there. No trees, per se--just huge ferns and some moss. There were strange creatures in the oceans, that would sometimes come out onto the beaches. I'm pretty sure I fed on them.

Actually, I think I do have a first memory, and I remember it because it was a bad one. I remember being hungry.

My belly was growling at me and I had to find something to fill it with.

Because there was a lot of vegetation around, I decided to start with testing that out. Ferns back then were very spiky and tough, so they weren't easy on the mouth. I had to do a lot of chewing, and my teeth aren't that of someone who chews the cud. So masticating tough, woody leaves got very old very fast. I tried the moss next and if you've ever tasted that slimy feeling in the back of your throat when you've had one too many drinks, then you'll see why I abandoned that fast. There were no flowering plants back then so no fruit or nuts to feast on.

After the second day I was beginning to worry that I was never going to get anything to eat.

Then I saw it: a plant that looked very much like a fern, only the leaves were star-shaped. I felt it with my paw and it also had a softer texture than its woody cousins. The smell was earthy and minty at the same time and it made me salivate. Perhaps I should have taken a taste test at first, but I was so hungry I just grabbed a handful of them and shoved them into my gob. They tasted peppery and the flavour was welcome after days of trying to eat spiky, thorny ferns that hurt the soft parts of my mouth. It's probably because of my earliest experiences with edible plants that I seem to despise bland food. Only a theory, mind, but I definitely seem to have a weakness for flavours that are sharp and strong. Fluttershy once found me raiding her fridge in the middle of the night. She had a jar of capers in there and I was scooping them out with a spoon and shoving them into my mouth so I could savour the salty, briny mustard taste. Anything like that. When I've felt a bit peckish I've conjured up anchovies, blue cheese, garlic. I'm a sucker for garlic; I eat it raw. I could never be a vampire, so all that stuff parents used to tell their naughty foals about how if they misbehaved "Discord would suck their blood with his fang" is complete codswallop. As if I'd punish anyone for misbehaving.

I lay there for a while, enjoying the feeling of a full belly, then decided I'd go down to the nearby spring and quench my thirst, so I got up to make my way over there, only...I couldn't. I was unable to move a muscle. I tried crying out, but the only sound that came out of my mouth was akin to a gurgling whine.

You've probably figured out what happened already, but just in case you hadn't...yes, I had manged to chomp down on something poisonous. I don't know how long I lay there trying to move my muscles; it could have been hours or days, but the simple fact was yours truly was immobile, and we should all know by now how I feel about that.  Inside my head I was screaming but I'm sure if there had been an observer they simply would have seen a draconequus colt with pupils the size of dinner plates making groaning sounds and salivating.

I could feel tears running down my face, but my limbs felt numb. Then the visual show started.

It was actually terrifying at the time. I could see everything. Patterns that went on and on and changed but didn't change. They looked like sea-horse tails and snail shells and giant bugs, and starfish and spines of long necked animals, but at the time I could make sense of none of it, especially since none of those things existed yet. At the same time all of these things seemed to be surrounding a dark black void, which felt incredibly ominous and threatening. It was as if at any moment the terrifying rollercoaster ride I was on would stop, only to throw me into the far more terrifying dark, endless void. The swirlling patterns made me feel sick and in my head I'm pretty sure I was screaming the word "no" over and over.

You poor thing.

"What?" I said, only I was speaking in my head. Any vocalisations were impossible at that moment in time.

So young and new, and you made your first mistake and it's going to be your last.

"Who is saying that? And what do you mean by my last?"

There was silence for a while, and I thought the voice had gone away, until it spoke again and I nearly jumped out of my skin. Well at least I would have done if I could move.

I'm...everything.

"Well that's very helpful," I snapped, though I still felt terrified beyond belief. "Wait...are you the plant I just ate?"

Something like that.

"How do I make this feeling stop?"

Don't worry little cub, it will all end soon.

My mouth felt dry. "You mean I'm going to die, don't you?"

Looks that way. Bit disappointing. I had hoped you'd be one of the tougher ones. I enjoyed your process.

"My process? Hey, I don't want to die!" More tears were streaming down my face now.

Well, my process, actually. The process of elimination. If you can't survive in the world I have processed then you clearly do not fit in it. I can't have my processes dying because of my process.

"What does that even mean?"

It doesn't mean anything. It just is. But there are rules, and the rules are if you cannot survive then you can't be part of the process.

In absolute terrror I shouted: "those are stupid rules!" I'm sure the gurgling noises I was making by then were becoming soft little sobs. I didn't want to die. I was very scared it was going to hurt.

They are neither stupid nor logical rules- they are simply what work. You don't work, therefore you have to die, to make room for other more worthy creations.

"Creations? I'm a creation?"

You are my creation.

"But you're a plant."

Oh little one, I am everything. You are seeing me right now, dancing before your eyes.

The patterns continued to swirl and change while the ominous void loomed in my periphery. For a second I considered asking what it was, but I was afraid of the answer.

"Why would you kill me if you created me?"

Because you don't work.

"Who wrote that stupid rulebook? How do you know I don't work just because I made one mistake?"

Because it was a fatal mistake.

"So fix it! If you created me then you can stop me from dying! Besides, it's not really my mistake is it? It's your process, and your process was faulty so it's actually your mistake and  I shouldn't have to be the one to pay for it. You created the plant and there were no warning signs that it was not good to eat. Whereas those other plants taste bland and horrible and yucky and who would want to eat them? This plant smelt and tasted good so I ate it. Why should something that tastes good kill you? That doesn't make any sense. Your plant is faulty."

There was a terrible silence that seemed to last forever.

"Hello?" I said tentatively.

You're saying the plant should be the one to die, but the plant suceeded in carrying out it's defense.

"No it didn't, I still ate it! I ate most of it. If it didn't want me to eat it, then it shouldn't have been so delicious. Your plant was stupid. It's the thing that doesn't belong here."

That seems non-sensical. The poison was an effective toxin.

"Maybe it would have been effective it it worked right away, but I was able to enjoy a four course dinner of foliage before I realized anything was amiss."

There was an even longer silence this time, then, to my surprise:

What do you suggest?

My mind flailed wildly then I said:

"If I suggest something will you spare my life?"

I still don't think that's the best course of action.

"How will you know if you end my life? It could well be the best course of action and you'll have missed out because of stupid, rigid rules. How is anything supposed to be properly tested if there's no room for maneuver?" I'm pretty sure fear was the only thing keeping me talking at this point, as I was beginning to feel quite nauseated.

Suddenly, there was a rumbling sound and I began to move along the changing swirling patterns at a faster rate.

"Wait, no!" I screamed. This was it, I was going to die.  Then that black, huge void opened and the swirlling patterns vanished as it swallowed me up. "No no no no no no noooo!"

I realized my limbs were thrashing around in the air when I opened my eyes.

I was alive! Awake and alive! Alive and kicking! I showed that plant! Who's the loser now?

Then I turned over and threw up.

While I had certainly learnt my lesson about eating too much too fast, I was incredibly thirsty, so I managed to shakily make my way to the spring, where I drank tentatively at first. I was severely dehydrated, and this was only made worse in the coming days because...well, let's just say it's a pity toilet paper hadn't been invented yet.

But I stayed near the spring (and used the toilet far away from it), nursing myself back to health with fresh water. I lay down on a smooth flat rock, watching the sunshine ripple on the water.

Little one.

I leapt to my feet and looked around wildly for the source of the voice. Were the effects of the plant still happening?

Don't be afraid.

"Where are you?" I said, fearfully.

Inside you.

That was not a comforting thing to hear.

"Why can't you leave me alone?" I whimpered.

It was the only way I could save you.

"Save me?" I felt confused for a moment. I had assumed everything that had happened with the plant and the visions had merely been a hallucination- a frightfully real and nauseating hallucination, but a hallucination nonetheless.

Yes, I thought about what you said to me, about flexibility and room for maneuver. I have decided I like your thought process. I have decided I like your process.

"Now gracious of you."

The way you speak as if you are not afraid of me is part of your process.

I was silent for a bit then asked: "So you made me, huh?"

You are a test. I am testing my creations. It is because you are a test that I have let you live.

"How do I know I'm not just going mad?"

Would you be asking yourself that if you truly were mad?

"Stop answering all my questions with questions! Why are you inside my head? You said it was the only way to save me but I don't understand why."

Nothing can reverse death. That is a rule I intend to stick to, despite your protestations.. However, you were on the brink of death instead of actually dead, so here we are.

My head hurt. "You haven't answered my question."

You are full of questions, aren't you?

"Well...yes! What was that weird dark space I saw?" I shuddered even as I let the question leave my lips.

That is everything I'm not.

"And the stuff around it?"

That is me. It's also you now.

"If we're the same person, then how am I talking to you? Am I talking to myself?"

You are a very inquisitive child.

"Well you made me."

I had the oddest sensation that the voice was smiling at me.

That I did, little one.

Then I felt warm and calm, like I was being held, and I curled up on my rock and fell asleep.

It was nightfall when I woke up, and the stars were splashed across the sky. In a weird way, I noted some of the clusters of stars looked very similar to the patterns I had seen when I had eaten the plant.

Let me guess, you have another question for me.

"Kinda," I said, fidgeting. "If you're me, and I'm you, and the plant was also you, then are those stars up there you as well?"

I'm everything.

"But you said that black stuff wasn't you."

See the black stuff around the stars?

"The sky?"

No, the area around the stars. That is not me. That is nothing.

Nothing seemed to go on forever, but unlike the undulating patterns I had seen, seemed to never change. It was always black. Not a friendly, welcoming black like the feathers of a crow that seemed to change in the light, but a still, unmoving black. I shivered.

I am tired of nothing. I need to be able to stretch and grow.

"Did you make others like me?"

You are the only one like you.

My ears drooped. The voice seemed to notice my sadness.

While there may not be others exactly like you, there are others. I told you I was testing out my creations.

"Can I see one?"

You may. Tomorrow, after you've rested a bit more and eaten something.

The minute the voice relayed this to me my stomach rumbled.

"I want something good to eat."

You can have something now.

I waited. "Okay....where is it?"

You can make it yourself.

"Make food? How am I supposed to do that?"

You didn't like the plant I made, so let's improve on it.

"I don't know how."

Just relax.

The rollercoaster of patterns was suddenly there again, rocketing across my vision. I cried out and fell off the rock.

"I don't like it," I said, bursting into tears. "It's scary!"

That's because you're fighting it. You need to relax.

"I don't wanna relax! I'm tired and I'm hungry!" I was sobbing uncontrollably now.

Oh little one, it's been a long day, hasn't it?

"Yes!" I shouted angrily. "It has!"

Okay, I'll field this one. And I promise you it isn't poisonous.

Instantly my nostrils filled with the most delicious, sweet smell, and a large fleshy object coloured like a sunset appeared before me. I sniffed at it.

"What is it?" I said suspiciously, even though I was salivating. I'd been fooled by tantalizing smells before.

I haven't decided what to call it yet. But I promise you it won't hurt you.

I thought for a minute. If the voice had wanted me to die then it wouldn't have brought me back from the brink. On the other hand this could be some kind of weird trick. But I knew that if I didn't eat soon I was going to get very sick or even die. What choice did I have? I bent over the fleshy object and gave it one more cautionary sniff, then I took the plunge.

Instantly my taste buds was innundated with the most delightful sensation. The sweet flesh was high in water content and I devoured it ravenously, no longer caring one way or the other about how safe it was to eat. To this day I'm not sure what it was, but the taste was akin to a mango. It may have been some kind of proto fruit. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

When I had eaten my fill, I look around at nothing in particular and said to whoever was listening "thank you."

You're very welcome, Little One.

I curled up on the rock and slept under the stars.

The next morning is when I met Hubert.

Hubert was what palaentologists now call a Butter Dragon. They are unfortunately now extinct, which is a shame because I'm sure Fluttershy would love them. They have a dragon-like body with the enormous wings and head of a butterfly.

However, when I met Hubert he was in his juvenile stage. He had not yet sprouted wings, and moves around more like a snake on his belly. He also seemed to thrive on eating the poisonous plant that had reacted so badly with me.

"I told you that plant was rubbish," I said. I could have sworn I heard the voice haarumph.

Anyway, Hubert had passed her test, so he carried on living. He was actually a very cute, snuffly thing in his infant stage. I was the one who decided to name him Hubert. When the voice asked me why I told it that he simply looked like a Hubert.

You are a decidedly odd one.

You have to understand, at the time I was still a colt, so I was not all that interested in the voice's insistence that I help it create things. I just wanted to play with Hubert and climb up big ferns and go swimming. Plus those patterns were intense and scary and I did not like them at all.

One day I went to check on Hubert only to find something terrible had happened to him. He was surrounded by a tough, silvery coating that looked like a fine mesh cylindrical net.

"Help!" I cried out to the voice. "It's Hubert! I think something's eaten him!" I was near hysterical. I'd grown rather attached to his snuffling presence and I was horrified that he would die.

Oh, child. Hubert is fine. He's just gone to sleep for a while.

I wasn't convinced, and continued to bawl uncontrollably.

"I don't want him to go to sleep! Wake up, Hubert! Make him wake up!"

I felt the presence of the patterns and voice curl around me, as if it was trying to comfort me.

He will wake up, and then you can help me with the next stage.

I spent weeks checking on the sleeping Hubert. The only way I knew he wasn't dead was the cylindrical thing he was enclosed in would give a twitch now and then. I wondered if he dreamnt about anything when he was in there.

To cut a long story short, Hubert, of course became a beautiful Butter Dragon once he emerged from his cocoon. His wings seemed to change colour in the sunlight--from purple, to blue to green. I was so excited when it happened that I nearly forgot about the voice telling me I was supposed to help him with his next stage.

Well?

"Well what?"

What are you going to feed him?

"What do you mean? There's plenty of that plant left that he likes."

That was what he ate when he was a baby. He can't eat that now.

I noticed Hubert no longer had the jaws he used to munch his way through the stems and leaves of the toxic fern that had made yours truly hurl heartily. Instead, he sported a structure that coiled up under his face.

"What am I supposed to do with that?"

I can show you.

I thought of the frightening patterns and bunched my paw and talon into fists. "No," I said simply.

Hubert needs to eat. You know what happens to things when they don't eat...

I looked over at Hubert and his adorable puzzled face. He tilted his head at me and my heart sank.

"It...it won't hurt, will it?" I said quietly.

It won't hurt, but you have to stop fighting it. I can show you how to make things. And you can help me, because you have a different perspective on things.

My mouth felt dry, but I agreed and nodded.

The patterns hit me instantaneously. I nearly shouted at the voice to take it gradually, but then I remember it had said not to fight it. I tried willing myself to relax but everything was moving so fast it seemed antithetical.

"Whu...what do I do now?" I said.

Relax.

I realized my body was extremely tense. I tried willing my muscles to ease up.

For Hubert, I thought. Then I thought of the way a cool stream feels when you swim in it and the patterns slowed down.

That's more like it. Now, pick one.

"Huh?"

One of the patterns. Pick one.

Something that looked very much like a star was floating past my head and I pointed to it.

Very good, now what will you do with it?

"Um, make it into food for Hubert? But Hubert can't eat stars, they're made of fire and that will hurt him. I want a soft, cool thing like a star that tastes sweet like that thing I ate, only Hubert can reach it with that coiled up thing, so it has to be in pieces small enough for him to drink up."

I felt a jolt in my body and the patterns disappeared, leaving me with just the one, floating in front of me.

What is it?

"I don't know. But is it safe for Hubert to eat?"

Did you tell the pattern to make it not safe to eat?

"No."

Then it's safe to eat.

And it was. Hubert uncoiled his proboscis and drank from the first flower.

That gives me an idea, actually.

"Really? What's the idea."

I'll tell you when you're older. But I think I've hit on a way to make more creations without me having too much input.

"No, tell me now!"

While I did not, indeed, find out until I was older what her idea was, I did see the fruits of it early on. It was night time, and under the trunk of a big tree we had created, a strange beast that looked like a cross between a modern day bird and a lizard was running in and out of its burrow. All of a sudden, it was followed by three minature versions of itself, each mimicking the run of the larger one and bobbing its head up and down in the same way.

"Why are those things smaller than the big one? And how did they get here?"

The original one is the mother, and the little ones are its children, and I told you, you'll find out the rest when you're older.

I thought for a minute, then said "If you made me, does that make you my mother?"

I suppose it does.

"Cool!" I snuggled down into the mossy roots of the tree. The white night flowers began to open and fill the air with their scent and insects began to peruse them. Above in the branches of the tree, Hubert snored softly.

That is the first time I remember feeling happy.