Since you all have nothing else to read... · 9:49pm Sep 16th, 2012

At least until my update tomorrow... here's a sample I just wrote up.

It's from, you guessed it, another story idea. Try to guess what it is. Don't worry, I'm not going to work on this until I've finished the others! This is just for your entertainment.

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Even outside the throne room, he felt the cold. It radiated from the obsidian doors that led into the beating heart of the Moonlit Empire. It seeped into the floor and sent shocking tendrils beneath his uniform, caressing his skin with ugly, insidious intent. Warmth was leeched away, sucked into the gaping maw of the Void. The very life force inside of him was forced to submit, to give, to willingly be stripped down and dispersed into nothingness before Her everlasting glory.

As the doors opened into a gaping, cavernous hallway beyond, the feeling of total emptiness intensified. The statuesque guards lining the hallway, faces concealed by a mystical shroud, bodies composed of starry Night, stepped into mechanical motion to beckon him inside. He shivered as he stepped past the threshold, as he had every other time.Though a High Admiral was not supposed to show anything but total and complete comfort in the presence of Her Majesty, he’d never been able to fully repress his instincts. Instincts that only silly, foalish ponies of the Sun might harbor. Other ponies had been executed for even less than that, for in the presence of the Empress, all was nothing but an extension of Her will.

He moved in a straight line down the length of the hallway, surrounded by massive pillars made of stars and Aether, while overhead spun the entirety of the Nethers. His hooves clicked on the glass-like surface of the floor, and the lights from above were perfectly mirrored on the pathway. He was surrounded by the Aether, the very being of the Empress. Nothing escaped Her sight here. Light shone down from a hundred billion distant suns, but none of them were the Enemy’s. Every star that looked at Her Empire from beyond was Her helper, Her eyes and ears, and a guide to those who walked beneath them. Their cold, dim light and sheer distance were symbolic of Her untouchable nature. He should have felt safe beneath them, but instead he felt nervous. Maybe that was why She let him live; She wanted ponies who chose to obey rather than bootlicks and incompetent zealots who thought loyalty was a guarantee of safety. A modicum of restraint and caution was a worthy quality in Her eyes.

Restraint he was certain he would not get from Her tonight.

The gateway to Her realm was a cloud of nebulous gas and magical mist that stretched across the width of the hallway, barring his entry. The cold was at its height here; he could barely feel his limbs even though Her magics allowed him to use them. Any who had designs to harm Her Highness would be frozen solid. But he was loyal. He feared, he questioned, he dared to wonder... but so far, She judged him still innocent. Today that would all change.

He walked into the cloud without hesitation, feeling his horn tingle and vibrate with the sheer amount of power radiating from Her presence.

Around him shimmered blues, purples, and yellows of every shade. Angry red mingled with cool green, and stars swirled around him. He could feel nothing of himself. He didn’t even feel like he was moving forward. All of himself was given over to Her, the One who kept the evil light of the Enemy at bay, who preserved the gentle lordship of the Night, the cool, soothing Mistress of the Void.

He closed his eyes.

When he opened them, he was inside.

Her throne room was a vast, inescapable cavern, stretching out in every direction in a gigantic rectangle. The floor was perfectly smooth obsidian, Massive windows through which he believed a starship could pass revealed the vast world of Equestria outside. An entire planet in Her cold, loving embrace, covered in glorious eternal Night. Each window was a portal to a different part of the Realm. Bioluminescent plants and quietly glowing lights of distant cities covered the landscape, and the gentle velvet blue of the Night sky illuminated the countryside. It was so beautiful he would have cried if he were a lesser pony. Instead he felt only the distant, vague satisfaction of his Empress.

Look at Me.

Her voice rumbled through his body like an earthquake. He trembled but did not feel it, for his body was now completely encased in the cold of the Void. At last he tore his gaze from Her realm and looked at Her.

She was glorious. August and imperial. Her mane and tail flowed and whispered with a soft wind, speaking of mysteries unfathomable. Only the shape of Her shimmering regalia, the helm and chestplate and hoof boots, gave form and definition to the inescapable blackness She was composed of. Her eyes were the best and worst of Her, for within them was the love of Her Night, and the wrath She held for all who opposed it. Everything about her spoke of power and grace, beauty and sophistication of the highest order. He loved her, without doubt, but from a distance. Never could any mare or stallion hope to lay a hoof on that immaculate, majestic perfection of form and figure.

Tell Me.

He didn’t hesitate. “Your will was carried out to the letter. We descended upon the world of the Exiles and purified it of the Enemy’s taint. However, it seems some have survived. We have confirmed that the border patrol sent to perform the purification has disappeared, and our Raider allies report an Exile vessel has been seen in the area with an accompanying fleet. This puts them in close proximity to the outer perimeter, at the edge of the Seventh Circle.”

You have failed.

Her lips did not move. None of Her did, save for Her mane and tail. All that was needed was Her voice. Deep, deep down, he felt the instinct to grovel and beg. But that would only make his punishment come quicker. He droned on.

“I have, Your Highness. Proper intelligence was not gathered before the attack. We did not know the Exiles had constructed a vessel that was so capable of both flight and battle.”

You imply Our power is not enough.

He had no reply. Her ire was already stirred against him, and all he could do was pray as Her voice swept over him in a wave. She did not shout. She never needed to; in fact, Her voice was but a whisper. But that small taste of Her voice alone was as grand and sweeping as all the bells in the Lunar Cathedral.

Are you not an instrument of Our will? Are you not the only one in the land second to Our throne? Did I not command you to undertake this glorious mission to exterminate the last of the Enemy with the expectation you would fulfill it to the best of your abilities? Did I not impress on you enough how important this single act was, how it could decide the fate of My eternal Night? And yet now you tell me agents of the Great Enemy are moving towards Our borders after I instructed you to destroy them.

He felt colder. A cold even greater than the loss of self-worth and identity. A cold deeper than the Void that snatched him by the heart. He flinched, but made no sound. Something like icicles wormed into his body, tearing him apart from the inside out. He could feel them, pressing in, stabbing, ripping him asunder, so cold they burned even in the chill of Her presence.

Still he remained motionless.

You are My arm, and Our soldiers are Our hooves. When they fail, you fail, and when you fail, you bring shame upon Us.

The icy needles drove up against his heart. He struggled with himself not to show pain or fear. This was his just punishment for failing his Empress. He deserved this. He needed this. To be wiped clean of impurity and selfishness. This pain was just. It had to be. It was. Wasn’t it?

The needles halted, holding him in a prison of agony, trapping his mind and muscles and forcing all of his attention upon the glorious darkness of the Empress.

You will return to the Outer Realm and take personal command of Our fleets. You will find the last Exiles before they reach the Seventh Circle, and you will annihilate them.

He felt something new. Something alien and awesome that overpowered the pain, overpowered all of him. It speared straight into his brain and yanked his consciousness forward, until the sickly green glow of Her Majesty’s eyes filled his vision, overwhelming him with the sheer power of Her presence and authority.

There is no failure.

There is no second thought.

There is only the performance of My will.

She blinked, and he was suddenly in the entrance hall again, looking at the cloud he’d entered before. Her voice followed him as he began the long, lonely walk to his new mission.

In My mercy, I give you this one chance for redemption, Prince Blueblood. Use it well. If you cannot be My arm... then you will be severed.

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