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Riivencrest, Part Two: Master Raven

So many scholars held at hand, That many parents met dispair: "You want to see them? Well, you can't! The wise won't breathe your common air!" The Raven knew how many acts possessed his play. And so, the first was pushing them away. Carrying out the second part, The students gathered what he asked; Brewing, although labeled as an ancient art, Within itself great secrets masked. The next hoovestep for his goal: To control a newborn foal. How? Is this single stallion heartless? You should never as

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Introduction upside-down?

No hoovesteps or wings could be heard at all; A letter now rested nearby on the floor. A crimson wax crest sealed the edges together, An ebony lace traced from top to its nether. To pick up the letter, I'll kneel. What words will this scroll reveal? The seal I will break an then I will see If the written adress goes really to me. A shame it would be to tear it apart. Fine writings on paper are such a rare art! Yet this vivid night won't let me read. The blue moon's light is what I need. I set my

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Something wonderful...

...happened last day. In the chat, a poem began out of nowhere! And everypony played along! And so with Tales the verse began. My thought there was: "are you a fan? It's Frosts! How do you know? Just those who quote him can!" But thus my thought was left abreeze As Quillhart followed word with ease. The most unexpected can make one's heart swell... I wish I'd remember the poem as well.

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Riivencrest, Part One: The Warlock.

A story I will tell to thee: So long afore the Everfree, When woods were but a single tree, An evil stood above them all, And Riiven was its common call. The warlock hid behind his wall, And whispered trancing lies to youth. He spoke of honor and of truth, Of some things he made to move. By all of them he was adored; They acted out on his accord, So following their hero's word. The stallion root of evil was, Yet death for him's an open clause.

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Another thought.

If just once it came to thought That to others mattered not Times when I stood up and fought, Then to fall would be a waste, And of failure feel the taste, For success would lack its chaste. If I fall, it's for others to see That though painful it may be, It will matter not to me. I've been tripped and pushed around, Often cursed and even bound. But with luck I always found Kinds of those who helped me up, Friends to aid me leap the gap, Later guide across a trap. As a child, I understood, Then

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What is now on my mind:

[colour=#000080]Some things I wish to keep behind![/colour] [colour=#000080]Like writing in long prose. I may not handle very well, suppose.[/colour] [colour=#000080]The tragic death of a mother who disowned me. Now, tell me: how wrong it is that I don't grieve that much about it?[/colour] ... [colour=#000080]An anectdote at the theatrical worshop:[/colour] [colour=#000080]"Not everyone can get up on the stage," I spoke proudly to my pupils. The ladders at the sides had been disassembled, so

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A night of marble colour.

[colour=#000080]A vivid light slipped past my sense.[/colour] [colour=#000080]"Already day?" I, bothered, whined.[/colour] [colour=#000080]The silver orb allowed to find[/colour] [colour=#000080]The source and might of shine so tense.[/colour] [colour=#000080]"But, Moon, in such a night, why do you hide?"[/colour] [colour=#000080]Her shape became a flicker;[/colour] [colour=#000080]I couldn't see it quicker.[/colour] [colour=#000080]My words were gone; she wouldn't just abide.[/colour]

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Lovely Alice.

The piercing glow of her merry eyes And its contrast with a speech so wise; How she never stops and always tries At sight of challenge of great size. I am delighted to admire The burning passion, spreading fire Of her dazzling work entire And every whim the little do desire. Yet at soothing times as these, To watch her slumbering in ease Reminds me why I hold the keys. To protect my sister: such is the geass.

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That time amid the night...

[colour=#000080]Howbeit our dreams hath joy of Luna's guard,[/colour] [colour=#000080]Perhaps there is a time when such delight is lost,[/colour] [colour=#000080]For amid the night the mare shall rest her art,[/colour] [colour=#000080](Some tell) to sing about what mattered most.[/colour] [colour=#000080]With skies so dark and clouded,[/colour] [colour=#000080]A cause of nighttime sorrow,[/colour] [colour=#000080]Arrays of thoughts stay shrouded,[/colour] [colour=#000080]Faith lost until tomorro

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