Chapter One: Between Two Worlds

In the gleaming towers of Canterlot, where the skies shimmered with spelllight and libraries stretched higher than clouds, lived a young mare named Twilight Sparkle.

She was born of two worlds. Her mother, Starfire, was a sharp-minded unicorn who lived by discipline and scrollwork. Her father, Brambledust, was an earth pony who believed in strength, patience, and family. Long ago, their love split, and with it, their home.

Twilight remained in Canterlot with her mother and the unicorn side of the family, where magic defined worth and intellect was worshipped. Her older brother, Stoneheart, an earth pony like their father, left for valleyfalls to train as a royal guard. Their time together grew rare, but their bond never broke.

Twilight had a horn, but it didn’t gleam like the others'. Her magic flickered, her strength surged unpredictably. Sometimes, she felt like a cracked mosaic: part unicorn, part earth pony, not quite whole in either world.

She was one of Princess Celestia’s personal students—but not the only one. Others had grace, talent, power. Twilight had curiosity, relentless drive, and a longing to understand the world that often made her feel left behind.

Twilight shared a tower room with a fellow student named Star Stream. They weren't close—Star Stream was aloof, quiet, often lost in her own stargazing and spellwork. But their paths crossed often, in shared study hours and sleepless nights filled with scribbled notes and drifting candlelight.

One day, in the forgotten wing of Canterlot’s grand library, Twilight found a book older than the moon-carved stone floor beneath her hooves. Its pages whispered of two royal sisters: Princess Celestia, bringer of the sun, and her older sister, Princess Lunar, keeper of the stars.

Forgotten by time and overshadowed by daylight, Princess Lunar fell into sorrow. Her magic grew cold, twisted by resentment. She became Queen Nocternal, Empress of Endless Night.

Only by wielding the Elements of Harmony could Celestia banish her sister to the moon.

“On the longest day of the thousandth year,” the prophecy read, “the stars will aid in her escape, and she shall bring eternal night.”



Twilight's heart thundered. The Summer Sun Celebration—the thousandth—was tomorrow.

She rushed to warn the academy, her fellow students, even her mother. They dismissed her.

"Legends," they said. "Bedtime stories."

But the stars were moving. The moon's shadow was changing.

And Twilight could feel something awakening.



Chapter Two: The Stone Star

That night, Twilight paced her tower, books stacked like barricades. Star Stream sat across the room, quietly polishing her telescope.

"You okay, Twilight?" she asked, not unkindly, but distantly.

"No," Twilight murmured. "I think something terrible is about to happen. And no pony will listen."

Twilight had tried. First, she had gone to the head librarian at the academy. She’d presented the book, the prophecy, even copies of her star charts. The elder unicorn barely looked up from his tea. “Old stories,” he chuckled. “stories and myths. Delightful bedtime reading, but nothing more.”

She didn’t give up. She approached three of Celestia’s other students during afternoon lecture, cornering them with frantic energy and ink-streaked notes. “Look at the dates. Look at the stars,” she said, voice sharp with urgency. Glintveil rolled her eyes. Silver Script offered a half-hearted, “Interesting theory.” None of them cared.

Even her mother refused to take her seriously. “Twilight,” Starfire said, brushing the dust from her daughter’s shoulders, “you’ve always had a vivid imagination. You can’t treat every page like a threat. Focus on your studies.”

Twilight had gone so far as to submit a formal letter to the court, asking for an audience with Princess Celestia herself. It never reached the throne. One of the royal aides returned it unread. “Her Majesty is preparing for the Summer Sun Celebration,” the stallion said curtly. “She has no time for superstition.”

That night, Twilight sat on the cold stone floor, surrounded by scattered parchment. She stared out the window, the full moon leering back at her. The stars were moving—closer, tighter, aligning around the shadow on the moon’s surface. She turned to Star Stream. “You’ve studied lunar paths. You must’ve seen it too. Don’t you feel it?” Star Stream blinked at her and said nothing. Not disbelief. Not agreement. Just silence.

She turned to the small wooden box on her shelf. Inside was a gift from Stoneheart: a carved stone star, shaped by hoof, not magic.

"You're both earth and sky," he'd told her. "Don’t let anyone treat that like a flaw."



She held it tight. She missed him.

In the morning, a scroll arrived. Not from Celestia herself, but from her court:

“Twilight Sparkle, you are assigned to represent Celestia’s Academy in the town of Phillyhaven. Assist with Summer Sun Celebration preparations. Report back with full details.”



Twilight read between the lines: she was being sent away. Politely. Quietly.

She packed quickly. Books. Charts. Notes. And the stone star.

As the chariot flew east, Canterlot faded into the clouds. Twilight looked up at the moon. The mare-shaped shadow was clearer than ever.

“They think I’m being overdramatic,” she whispered. “But I know what I saw. Queen Nocternal is returning.”