The Return of Prophesier Quarterhorse
“You my visit my gallery anytime you wish. Have some comment or make up a story! So very few ponies ever visit my gardens and leave an opinion about my statuary. Sometimes, it’s the best way to find out what my little ponies are thinking!”She said standing near a lovely display of roses near a statue of a pony with a drawn sword caught in stone as if plunging it after a diabolical enemy.
It was too much for one of the guards.”What does that one represent?”
“Quarterhorse’s roses?”He turned red. Quarterhorse grew roses, the finest, but that wasn’t his special talent…he was a scientist; one who specialized in shooting obnoxious rockets into the sky! He was always being called to court, admonished mostly. Still, his were the finest roses in Equestria.
“Oh the statue…She was an archaeologist…um figuratively; not literally, yes figuratively…”she eyed the statue again.”She represents the triumph of truth and familial love and knowledge against…ancient evil….”She left before the guard could ask anymore question, partly because she was very spry for her size partly because his superior was giving him a stare down. He would visit the garden in his off hours.
“….this is the second infraction!” Showspear barked. Apparent, what the princess said didn't apply to late night hours upon the striking of midnight.”I ought to bust you down Broadbeam…and wearing your armor..your sun armor, while off duty!” A night guard came rushing up.
“You two! Come with me! Every available guard is to report to the princess. “He said.
“Where too?” asked Showspear breathlessly as they galloped.
“The moon room!” Said the dark guard.
“Keep up, Broadbeam!” Showspear barked as he noticed the other guard slowing down, shock registering in his mind as to where they were going.
Princess Celestia stood in the room as guards marched in. A rare sight, she was resplendent in her sun armor, looking more glorious than ever. So magical with the gold, and silver, hues, from the moon, mixing in light on the glinting plates.
“We will be enough! “She shifted her pose.”Magi have prophesied that a sign this night would appear, in this room. That it heralds the moon princess’s return. They were late. I was just informed! It will be only a sign, I assure you Nightmare moon will not return as prophesied for hundreds of years, yet. I have no idea what it will be. But we will match it, we are prepared! Whatever may come, whether it be friend…”green sparks started to pop behind her.”…or foe! Get ready.”Celestia bowed her head, readied her ancient weapons, the scythe, as her horn glowed.
Green fire appeared dragon fire! The amount of fire, which would be a monstrous dragon, as the score of guards quaked, Celestia gave orders.
”Stand fast!”she barked.
It was like a funeral pyre only in reverse. Having a brier appear and then a figure suddenly unobscured by flames. He was stretched out ceremonially on a bier of flowers…moon flowers.
Celectia tilted her head and approached cautiously, “Stay back!”She cried as the guard began to move. They freeze, with clumsy clanking. The figure is wearing what looks like some kind of armored garb, with a helmet that is like a fish bowl. As she removes its helmet there is a hiss sound. Gently, pulling the helmet off the head, the mane and beard cascade out of it from the figure.
She looked at one off the youngest night officers, “Go fetch the royal cornier.”He ran off in a gallop. After his echoing hoof falls faded she turned back to the figure.
She then says with a smirk, ”You cleaver stallion, you! You never did intend to float above equestrian using centrifugal force.”As her smile fades, her eyes look to the floor sadly
The coroner arrives his exuberance suddenly tempered, disappointed to see Celestia.
”In his burial, have him afforded all rights and privileges as Prince Consort.” At that Celestia turns to leave tucking the helmet under her wing, momentarily picking up a single rose that had been carefully placed beside him, as the coroner begins a preliminary examination.
As the gaurd slowly begin to file out of the room. Broadbeam says to Showspear.
“I don’t get it.” . “She never liked Prophesier Quarterhorse.” said the young guard to the older beside him.
“You don’t notice much, do you kid.” Showspear said as the coroner turned the Quarterhorse’s head, revealing a kiss mark on his check of the darkest shade of cosmetics.
“Celestia never was his princess!”