Prologue

Outside, Ponyvill looked dark and gloomy. The only source of light was the shining moon, which was almost full. Suddenly, a shriek of pain tore through the silence, ringing throughout the small town. Dark clouds covered the moon, the only source of light, and blotted out the dim stars. Thunder roared throughout the sky as rain began to fall down to the dark earth. The weather started off as a steady downfall, but soon after it became a terrifying storm, water pelting the once dry ground. Strong winds howled, blowing blades of grass over. The scream belonged to Spitfire, who was on her back in one of the small Ponyvill houses. A stallion was with her, a dark shadow over his face.

Spitfire's face was twisted in pain, her yellow-and-orange hair sprawled out around her. "ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow-ow! I don't know if I can do this, Lightningwing!" She whimpered.

"You're fine; It'll be over before you know it! Spitfire, you're a strong, beautiful mare. There's nothing you can't do." Lightningwing said gently and encouragingly, his warm blue eyes resting on his mate's. After three long hours pain and endless claps of thunder, the screaming came to a stop. Gently, carefully, the stallion bundled the newborn white filly with his horn and lifted it slightly. Its eyes were closed, and a tiny horn poked out of a tuft of flame colored mane; it consisted of a yellow color like Spitfire's, but while she had orange, the filly had red.

The new pony was slowly lowered into Spitfire's outstretched hoofs. "She's so beautiful." The new mother whispered, her eyes sparkling.

"What should we name her?" Lightningwing asked.

"How about... Flamerunner?" Spitfire suggested.

"Flamerunner." Lightningwing repeated, his voice full of consideration. "That's the second most beautiful name I've ever heard."

"Second? What's the first?" Spitfire asked, sounding a bit offended.

"Spitfire." He murmured. Spitfire blushed, and they both stared down at their daughter with loving eyes.

"Hold on a second!" Spitfire exclaimed, her eyes suddenly wide. "She never even cried! She's been silent this whole time!" The two parents, both concerned now, watched the young filly. Besides the fact that she haden't made a sound, the newborn was perfectly healthy; steady heartbeat, glossy coat, consistent breathing...

"She doesn't seem sick... Maybe she's a mute?" The stallion suggested, trying desperately to sound calm. He slowly unwrapped the filly from the blanket, and froze. Not only did Flamerunner have a horn, but tiny white wings as well.

"She's... She's an alicorn!" Spitfire gasped, her eyes wide in disbelief. Suddenly, the patter of rain and the howling wind stopped. The room was filled with a quiet and stillness that could not be interrupted; it would not be interrupted. For on that night, history was made.