A One Shot · 9:48pm Mar 25th, 2013
I wrote a one shot. It's a bit too short to post as an actual story, so I'll just drop it here to see what people think. I call it "Equuism." It's a dystopian evil dictator Twilight Sparkle MUAHAHA thing.
I trotted through the gilded halls of the Royal Palace in Canterlot. It was an elaborate, extravagant marbled structure with gilded towers and surrounded by lush gardens—and guards armed with unbreakable deep purple obsidian armor and magically enchanted spears that could kill on contact.
I reached the throne room, a cavernous hall from which the Dear Empress ran the Empire from. The windows were stained-glass depictions of the Dear Empress conquering the land, sealing away the Solar and Lunar goddesses, coronating herself, and then ruling the Empire with a benevolent hoof—the last one being a total fabrication.
Tapestries and banners hung from the ceilings, depicting the Dear Empress’ smiling likeness and cutie mark, a six-pointed amethyst star surrounded by five smaller white ones. They were laid over a tricolor of indigo, magenta, and violet.
The floor and columns that supported the elaborate arched ceiling were also all made of gilded white marble. A purple carpet with golden fringes led from the high doorways up to the throne at the opposite end of the room. Guards were stationed everywhere, equipped with the same weaponry.
I finally arrived at the foot of the throne itself. I had never been to it before, and I truly saw how luxurious it was up close. The large golden dais it sat on was itself surrounded by crystal-clear waterfalls and exotic jungle plants. A velvety chocolate cake sat on an oaken side table.
The throne was made up of a pile supple purple velvet pillows on a raised platform borne on the backs of four sweating hoofstallions. The Dear Empress, in all of her majestic glory, was idly eating a slice of the cake. She wore a black cape fastened around her neck by a dark magical amulet. Her horseshoes were of the same unbreakable obsidian the guards wore. Upon her head was a black crown accented by a rainbow-colored jewel that gave off an eerie magical light. Her fluffy wings and sharply-pointed horn sparkled and her mane shone brightly as it waved in an invisible wind of sorts.
I bowed at the foot of the platform.
“My Dear Empress,” I said.
She looked down from her cake and smiled slyly, extending a decorated hoof for me to kiss—you had to before beginning an audience with her. After I had done so, she spoke.
“What do you want, my little subject?”
“My Dear Empress, my family has been starving on account of the drought and all running our crops. I was wondering if maybe you would consider assigning more rations to us, just for a little, to help us get by for a short while.”
She stared off into space, taking another bite of her cake. Then another. Then a third.
“My little subject,” she finally said, looking back down at me with a frown. “You did not satisfy your production quota for the previous growing season, if I recall correctly. You know that those who do not adequately contribute to our fair system of Equuism cannot reap its benefits. In short, no, you may not.”
I sighed.
“Thank you for your precious time, my Dear Empress,” I said as I bowed and turned to leave.
The Dear Empress finished her cake with another bite, and then dropped the plate on the ground in front of the hoofstallion. “More cake, hoofstallion,” she ordered.
Slowly, one of the hoofstallions slid out from under her platform, requiring the others to brace their weight even more. He carefully cut another large slice of cake, placed it into the plate, and held it up as an offering to the Dear Empress.
Her lip curled into another frown. “You were much too slow, and this is too small a piece,” she sneered, collecting swirling black magic energy around her horn. She then quickly sent a bolt of deadly dark magic at the poor hoofstallion, smiting him to ash in a matter of seconds.
“Guard!” she snapped. “Burn these ashes, and then make sure his family is placed into a reeducation center. Their blood is clearly not loyal to the Crown.”
One of the guards let off a snappy salute and bowed. “Yes, my Dear Empress,” he said, collecting the ashes and carrying them out of the room in a plain urn.
I watched the entire scene with some sort of macabre fascination out of the corner of my eye, having left the throne room but still peeking around the corner of the entranceway to see inside of it.
I doffed my Stetson as the guard with the urn exited, then trotted off the other way, the image of what my poor friend had become engraved in my memory.
The narrator is Applejack if you couldn't figure it out.
Inspired by this here sexy image (not NSFW).
Listen to this song in the background to "set the mood" a bit.
Interesting………in a good way.