Inkwelt

Twenty-fifth birthday. That’s when her parents had said she could open this little black box. Granted, she had been on her own for far longer, but she had never had any real reason to open it. She was more than certain the thing contained information on how to handle the magical curse that she had been born with, since her parents weren’t going to be around forever, and she needed to figure out how to handle it herself. It was really a sign of being a full adult-and with a boyfriend, and a semi-stable life, it finally felt like she was really ready. It had been a few weeks since and really, it wasn’t a primary concern for her-more of an afterthought thing. But better late than never, she thought as she pried open the dark wooden box’s lid, which had been stuck shut with age. The musty smell coming from the inside spoke of the couple decades it must have been shut. She never had really inquired what age her parents had started working with her and her curse-it was never a good time, trying to remember on her end. Flashes, bits and pieces; the multiple personality disorder had actually been harder once she became self-aware that she was suffering from it. Bouts of not knowing who she was or if that person was really real at all, and the depression following the inability to define herself…it was nightmarish. But the binder her parents had given her had been a great help, and more than anything, having close friends to know that they supported her no matter what… The top item in the box was a letter from both her mom and dad…addressed “LL and SH” with a heart between the two. Absolute nerds. She still felt just a little honored to have been an only child-granted her parents were separated and the world had ended in the universe she came from, which probably made it tricky to raise a second child, but still, she knew both her parents loved her dearly. Her father always sending notes and asking what kind of adventures she was up to, her mother always being nosey about her love life and if she was eating properly… A slight pang of guilt at not contacting them went through her as she began to read, but it faded away at the odd verbiage she encountered… “To our little girl, when the time is ready. I am speaking for both your mother and myself, and I want you to know we love you very much. Everything we have ever done, for better or for worse, has been with the best judgement we could muster-and we know that it has not been perfect. We may not be the best parents history has ever seen, but you will have to judge for yourself if we did right by you.” She blinked as she paused-it really seemed odd for just a twenty-fifth birthday recap-after all they had only ever done their best, this seemed an odd amount of piety for the love they had shown her. “Your mother and I were overjoyed to have been able to raise you-despite all the hardships and trials, we could not have asked for a more perfect child. We were probably not ready to be parents but fate rarely calls upon you when you are ready. You were no exception. I hope your destiny finds you in a stable spot when you read this, because it may be shaking-you are adopted.” She had to pause at that again-her mind blanking. She turned the envelope over, checking-that was definitely her mother’s signatures. And this was definitely dad’s handwriting. But this couldn’t be-adopted? She was…a unicorn. They were both unicorns. She had her mom’s feistiness. Her dad’s joke’s. This…had to all be wrong. Was she a niece instead? Maybe her aunt was her mother? There had to be some explanation….she had to read on. “During our earlier lives after Equestria was torn apart by the invasion, I took a job as a customs officer and your mother as a secretary. We saw a lot of comings and goings, illegal activity-but fate called on us one day as we apprehended the worst kind of illegal cargo-you. Equine trafficking and illegal experimenting have always been illegal but the slip-up that day put a young child in our hooves and we weren’t about to let you be possibly terminated-you were extremely volatile as some sort of experiment at that time, and things were not looking positive for you. Your mother and I sacrificed our jobs to fake having lost you, so we could instead take you home and raise you. You deserved a chance to live and exist, outside of whatever horrible lab you were spawned in. We always told you the binder we placed on you to control your personality disorder and powers could not be removed because it would leave your mind broken, it was only half the truth-it also holds you in singular form so your identity is not revealed to others-we know it seems wrong to do this now, and this is our way of making it right. At twenty-five seemed the right age to tell you the truth and let you choose. You can either keep the binder on and not know what you are, or take it of and make what you will of the truth. Just remember that no matter what you are, you will always be our daughter, and we’ve known and loved you since the start.” Persona was entirely unsure what point she had become a weeping mess-the paper of the letter was already stained with tears as she let her head down. None of these were upset at them-they had made the right decision. She had already felt terrible enough being a mental case-knowing that she had started out as some sort of lab experiment made her feel one-hundred percent worse. What had they done to her? Where did she even come from? Did she have actual parents somewhere? Her tear-stained eyes wandered to the black box, eyeing the only other contents-a manila file, faded with age-the label on the front reading “LAB EXTERMINUS” in austere-looking writing, and a rolled-up scroll tied with a rainbow ribbon. She reached out shakily for the scroll. Something about it was drawing her…unbidden, she pulled the tie, unfurling the crisp paper that was bound with some sort of metallic edging-she wasn’t even sure what all the glyphs were on the inside. Nothing she could read, but definitely something magical…was she supposed to get their help for this? She hoped not, being a universe over would make that a bit difficult… She had almost given up hope when she noticed a tiny note had fallen out of the scroll, and tilting her head, read her dad’s writing: “Just speak the words ‘It’s a Persona-l decision’ while holding the scroll and the spell will be broken. Told you I’d have the last joke.” A wry smile leapt to her lips. His stupid dad jokes were eternal-it didn’t matter if he wasn’t her real father, he was definitely her dad. And that was her mom. Whatever this big secret was…it had been their best decision, she’d trust in that.