The Tyrant Within

by Impossible Numbers

Epilogue: The Death of Ambition

It was not enough to win. Others must lose.

Back at their palace, no one troubled Princess Abacus Cinch for a week. She remained locked away in her own private chamber, fed only by nervous servants who left trays outside the door and then galloped away. The government ruled in her stead as best it could.

Eventually, the Captain of the Sidesaddle Soldiers – the new captain – knocked on her door.

“Your Highness?” he said.

The long pause sank his heart, and then he heard: “Come in, Captain.”

Not sure if he was grateful or regretful, he slipped inside.

Cinch’s bed chamber was plunged in darkness. When he shut the door, only the gossamer glow of the curtains proved that light existed at all. He could just see the four-poster bed framed there. When he stepped forward, something crunched underfoot. Instantly, he stood still.

It was almost a relief when Cinch’s horn lit up. She wasn’t on the bed. She sat at a private desk next to it, away from the hated gossamer glow. Her reflection had lit up its horn too – a mirror? – except when the captain checked, there were faint pictures behind it. An old painting?

He couldn’t help himself. As he squinted, he saw young faces in the picture. Two young faces. One was unmistakeably Cinch, though thinner and less lined about the eyes. The other could only be Celestia: her mass of pink mane was similar to the undulating beauty she bore these days.

Too late, he noticed Cinch’s reflection regarding him. He coughed awkwardly and saluted.

“Speak,” she croaked. Dust stirred on her breath. A few papers slid off her piled-high desk.

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing. “The Dressage Downs need their ruler.”

“They will get her.” Cinch frowned at her reflection. “But is it she who needs them?”

“Your Highness?”

Princess Abacus Cinch stood up so fast the captain fell on his haunches. She peered closer at the painting behind the glass, at the past.

“I am what I have always been,” she declared. “A hard worker.”

“Yes, Your Highness! Your devotion is beyond question! None can fault you there!”

The look she shot him was… weak, uncertain, softened. Then she tightened it again, until it became as blunt in purpose as an unsheathed dagger. It was a relief she turned it back to the picture. Then her spell lit up, she growled, and the magic tore the picture in half, erasing the hated half.

“And I will get what is mine,” she promised.

Young Celestia remained in the good half of the picture. In the now-empty half, the left side of Cinch’s haggard reflection glowered back with pure venom. Tormenting, mocking, like a demon in darkness.

---

Far, far away, at the top of Celestia’s tower, Luna pored over scroll after scroll, absentmindedly shuffling and stacking the tidied leftovers on Celestia’s desk. Her ear twitched when she heard the door click shut.

“Still working on The Pillars’ Progress?” Celestia said.

Luna cried out in frustration and tapped a quill meaningfully against the wood. “Tidying up your mess, as usual, my sister. And I thought I’d take the opportunity to prepare for a debate. Another debate! After ten years of this, I fear we will never reach consensus!”

“Relax, Luna,” said Celestia; Luna heard her walk over to the arched window. “Always the dour one, huh? That’s probably a good thing. Too much consensus kills the spirit.”

“And to rub salt in the wound, I must forsooth partake in a parliamentary debate! It is ridiculous! Now the earth ponies demand a mixed army to reflect the mores of the Equestrian Age! I ask you: what is wrong with the current regiments?”

“Perhaps you should ask: how could they be improved?”

The tones were faint and distracted. Luna turned to see her sister admiring the deepening violet of the twilight.

“Something on your mind, my sister?”

“Always,” said Celestia, heavy with melancholy. “And always shall there be.”

“It is not like you to be so dour.”

Celestia’s mane undulated. Luna took a chance to admire the strong wings tucked tightly along her sister’s back. One day, perhaps, she would understand how it was done…

She guessed what was troubling Celestia. “Do you believe we can trust her?”

“Cinch? I think so. She might not like it, but she’ll concede the loss. I think Equestria will be safe from her.”

The silence of the night settled like snow on their brows.

“Back in the Dressage Downs…” Luna hesitated. “…I sensed something cruel and powerful in the darkness beneath the city.”

Celestia peered up at the emerging twinkles of stars. “I sensed it too.”

A flicker of annoyance crossed Luna’s nose: she wished Celestia had kept to her own specialities, and yet here she was, just as able to trespass on her magical territory as to raise the sun on her own. It was most vexing.

Partly out of spite, Luna continued, “Then you know what it is, of course. What lies in Cinch’s heart.”

“Yes, but she knows it too. She’s too clever to succumb to that power. With that self-hatred comes self-control, a desire to keep herself under intense scrutiny. Poisonous hatred, kept at bay by cold ice. Why do you think she insists on crowds?”

“Vanity,” replied Luna promptly.

A slight chuckle. “Maybe you’re right. Or maybe we haven’t seen the last of her. She always wants everyone to know she’s a winner.”

“Even after all she’s accomplished!? What more could she possibly do!?”

Celestia focused, and her magic raised the moon higher. Half-light, half-dark.

“Perhaps that’s the wrong question,” she whispered sadly, hypnotized by both halves. “Perhaps the question is: who is she really doing all this for?”

---

Comments

[Lawton]

Something tells me that’s not the Fire heart of friendship on the cover

[Bicyclette]

you've intrigued me with the protagonist alone

[FanOfMostEverything]

Brilliant stuff, especially in how it extrapolates what we know about the human Cinch. She is Celestia's contemporary, in the same profession, but far stricter and capable of producing what she views as far superior people through her guidance. But that guidance exacts a terrible price on those who cannot meet her harsh standards. And while she is fiercely competitive, she is in her own way very fair. She simply uses that which is permitted to her, which is to say everything not expressly forbidden for what she sees as a good reason.

And thus we get the princess. It all fits together perfectly. I can only imagine how Sombra took the throne, but I can't imagine it was quick or easy. Thank you for this, and best of luck in the judging.

[Lionpaw315]

mom holy fuck

(wish I had more articulate things to say but I'm just so genuinely impressed I'm at a loss for words)

[xgfhj]

Wow! This story went a long way to get me to care about a character that I usually hate. There was so much lore and worldbuilding here too, it's good stuff!

[Cerulean Blue]

There were some really unexpected curves in this story, most of which came from how original and how well fit together it is.
Good stuff!.

[Impossible Numbers]

11022258
11022275
11023403
11024992
11039525
11091233
11661406

Darn, I've been lax in replying to comments, haven't I? This late, I don't quite feel able to respond to every single one as uniquely as each comment deserves. So as a minimum, please accept a gleeful "thank you!" for the feedback. I enjoyed reading every single one. 😌