Gold Dust
It was a pleasant Sunday morning, and a few white clouds gently floated through the sky, casting blotchy shadows on the valley. At the top floor of one of the castle’s spiral towers, was no one less than the princess of night herself. She was comfortably asleep, tightly wrapped and curled under the silky bed sheets. While still immersed in her deep and magnificent dreams, Princess Luna couldn't feel better.
Naturally, it wasn't part of her daily routine – being the aforementioned routine, almost entirely reserved for the dim hours after the sunset – to wake up before noon. Even though the myriad of sounds originated from the pulsating metropolis frequently interrupted her rest.
Curiously, the annoying noises and disturbances were not the cause of Luna’s abnormal awakening; but the unnatural silence and quietude. A peculiar silence – morbid, I dare to say – uncommon to the point of making the sleeping princess sense its existence.
There are times when the silence screams louder.
Luna moved her eyelids, allowing the morning light to slowly flow in, and reflect the world on the back of her eyes. Her room – still a misshapen blur – was gradually making itself clearer. First were the starry bed sheets, then the walls and curtains, and finally the furniture and other smaller objects. Time ticked by, and a clock over her nightstand struck ten o’clock.
The princess stretched her hooves, arched her back, and let out a long yawn. Turning to the other side of the bed, Luna contemplated her face in the large mirror at the wall. She wasn't sure as to why her subconscious urged her to wake up, but there was something chewing her thoughts – and Luna never contradicted intuitions.
She stood up.
Her hoofs brushed against the cold stone floor, and she quickly walked towards a carpeted part of her apartment, wondering as to why she had never considered the idea of surrounding her bed with some of the woven fabric. It was always cold inside the towers, and not even their opulent fireplaces were able to overcome the lack of thermal insulation of the ancient walls.
As she liked to do whenever awake, Luna opened a small crack in the curtains and immediately, daylight filled the room, blinding her for a few moments. Canterlot stood magnificent, and the world looked beautiful down the hills – all the white clouds and their blotchy shadows, all the buildings and their golden rooftops.
For a brief instant, everything seemed to be orderly following its way.
Until a tiny, yellowish figure fell from the skies above – then a grayish one could be seen – and another, and another, and another. It wasn't long until the princess realized those were not mere droplets of rain, but rather living beings – Well… Not as alive anymore.
Birds of many species, pegasus of different sizes and colors, and even griffons; beings that typically can be found travelling at high altitudes, far above the very top of the clouds. All of them failing like heavy droplets of water.
While Luna stared in shock at the windows, a sound reverberated through the room. Composed of crackling and tearing noises, bones and wooden rooftops shattered at the same time, followed by a painfully loud thud on the marble floor.
It echoed, and echoed, and echoed – down the stairways and beyond.
Something had crashed and pierced the spiral roof. There was a hole in the ceiling, and lying on the floor right below it was the responsible. A white, injured Pegasus.
Luna didn't knew her, for certainly, she wasn't anyone special – maybe a humble florist, on her way to the tulip fields. Or a mother, coming back home. The fact is that she hadn't enough time to answer none of those ephemeral questions – she was confused, irreparably wounded, and barely recognized the princess, when this one approached her dying body.
Seeing despair in the anonymous mare face, Luna approached, gently placing a wing around her figure. “My dear … What’s happening?” The princess asked. The mare’s eyes shone with tears, as they had seen more than any pony should witness.
“T-the air…” She painfully coughed. Her purplish mane shrouded most of her pale face, and this veil was everything she had, between her soul and the void. “It’s i-in the air. There’s only a faint glow behind the obscurity.”
As more and more creatures crashed through the roof, Luna closed her eyelids, focusing her attention only on the Pegasus mutterings. “But t-they can’t see…” The pony whispered. “They can’t see. T-they were already… already…”
Dead.
That was the missing word.
And indeed, she was right. As Princess Luna galloped in torment down the stairs and through the corridors, fallen bodies were the only obstacles in the way. Royal guards still in their armors were lying on the floor alongside with their spears, maids unconsciously rested over plates and trays – diplomats, advisers, visitors.
Lifeless.
Their faces had no expressions; no pain, no fear, and no panic. Not a single mark, burn, or injury – It was like their souls had simply vanished away in a matter of seconds, leaving nothing but their empty shells.
Luna felt as if she was unable to comprehend – it was all too blurry and frightening, and above all else; it was hard to accept. Still, by the time she opened the doors to the throne room, hurrying to find her sister, the last strand holding her world tore apart, and deep inside, she asked herself a very simple question: Do I want to understand?
A soft breeze danced freely around the room, carrying sheets of paper in the wind, just like dry leaves in the fall. Through the wide open windows, a fine golden dust flowed in, ethereal and almost unnoticeable, as it shimmered under the sunlight.
A thin layer of fluid dust covered the floor, and as Luna made her way through the silent chamber, nothing but her hoofprints were left behind.
As a pearlescent feather, Celestia rested before the throne. Silent, her body was static like all the others. For Luna, the world was in still-life painting state.
She ran and halted, destroyed and ripped, collapsed and cried, as the world she knew vaguely faded away – and the dust in the air, in water and marble, suddenly flew through her lungs and her veins. At each step, each sigh, and each flutter of wings.
It gleamed like a trillion little suns, it was omnipresent and embracing, vivid and pure, and the faint glow behind the obscurity became clearer and clearer, as the spaces between her head and her heart disappeared.
Whatever it was, it had not spared anyone. It came down to her, it made her wonder –
What’s the purpose of being alive, in a dead kingdom?
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Nice.
On a scale of mystery, it broke mine.
Each words, different meanings.
Okay, tell me, what insipired you?
10/10
Deep, man.
Deep.
Holy.... Whoa. If this doesn't get featured, nothing should. This is... Beyond words.
5910727 Hope so, my friend. Hope so!
5910513 Thank you, I'm glad you like it!
And it's really hard to say; I was listening to this song, late at night, and inspiration came to me.
5910497 Thanks!
cdn.meme.am/instances/56464469.jpg
5910807
Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead... only try to realize the truth.
What truth?
There is no spoon.
fakesteve.net/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/photo_movieMatrix-quoteSpoon.jpeg
Nothing I can say can accurately describe how I feel about this. The words are there, but they would be as accurate as aiming at a target and hitting a tree. Just...wow. You have earned a like and a favorite.
5910859 Thank you, really.
5910848 there goes my broken DVD of Matrix: Revolutions
.....I....really don't know what to say other than amazing.
5910939 Matrix is such an amazing trilogy. (Even though I prefer the first movie)
I wish the Wachowskis could develop a new saga. Matrix world is way too complex, and the probabilities are almost infinite.
5911020 Thank you!
Ah, lovely metaphysics. This was quite the interesting little read.
I have no words of the moment.
Reading this filled me with a kind of contentment.
It felt...Refreshing? Yes, that's the word.
I must say I quite enjoyed this, it's pleasant in a peculiar way.
5911179
That's great! I guess it worked - I really love 'peculiar' things (it's hard to describe) and if my story seems peculiar in a way, I'm happy.
What is the purpose of killing a kingdom?
5911656 No one killed a kingdom.
5911668
oh... but you did!
Good. Story.
*hides under a blanket for the rest of the day
Still thinking of how to condense my thoughts into words...
5911717 No, they were already dead.
Princess.
Amazing story.
Wonderfully abstract. Added to Sad Luna.
beautiful jet creepy...
Well, you asked for critique, so here's mine.
Almost everything is excellent. The prose, the pacing, and the imagery are all outstanding. The premise does a good job at being artistic and leaving things up for interpretation, something I don't see too much of on this site, or at least not a whole lot that's interesting to read. What keeps the story from being damn near perfect, however, are the few errors in words being used out of context or misuse of plurals/past tense, so I'd work on nailing that for your next story.
Overall, I loved it. Into my Favorites it goes!
Hm. I'll need to reread it.
5912556 Thank you!
I'll make sure to find an available editor, to help me with the next story. I wrote this one overnight, so I kinda expected it to have some grammatical mistakes.
5912116
5912301 Thank you!
5911717 As I said in the author's note - You're free to find your own meaning. This story is a metaphor, so it's up to you to interpret the 'death of the kingdom'.
Wut Dafuq?
Before Hand, In Some Far Away Place.....
Alpha Droid: INITIATE ATTACK PLAN 5.3.1: BEGIN CHEMICAL/ BIOLOGICAL WARFARE!
-A Number Of Large Cannons Fire, The Shells Explode In The Atmosphere Above Equestria-
That Is My Theory On What Happened.
I can see the question being the important point to this short, but my sense of story keeps saying there should be a lot more to this to give it more meaning. A odd conundrum if you ask.
Who watches over the dreams and nightmares of the one who watches over the dreams and nightmares when she sleeps?
5920878 i2.kym-cdn.com/photos/images/original/000/384/176/d2f.jpg
5920878
Bob from accounting, or Gina from marketing if Bob has the day off.
This may or may not reflect the story, but philosophy is my strong point.
Is death life? Is life death? do we really know? Are we alive? Are we really dead? or somewhere in between? Do we really understand?
Do we die after we have lived our lives? Do we start to live after our lives are finished? Do we really understand?
What is life? what is Death? but concepts, simple concepts, nothing more.
Do we wake in a dream to another life? Perhaps we never die? Perhaps it is all dreams upon dreams created by something we do not comprehend?
Certainly one can die inside, a living corpses shell,
one step more and then again, a living corpses hell.
On it goes the walk of death, to never feel inside,
on it goes the walk of death, the living hell abide.
I have always been one to reach out to others, to offer friendship when I can.
DEEP, MAN...VERY DEEP !!!!!
5920878
Who watches the watchmen?
5968800
Thank you for putting it into words.
Man, I want more. AND I want to know what's in that air!
WHO?! WHAT?! EXPLAIN!! EXPLAIN!! great short btw ever thought of going farther with this?