The soft creaking of chains gently swaying broke the monotonous silence whenever a calm breeze came in through the window, causing the colorful flames to flicker as the breeze kissed the candlesticks. The shifting metal that hung overhead caused the shadows in the room to grow and shrink in a methodic manner as the chandelier gradually swayed with the breeze.
The darkness of the room was something most would call oppressive, filling the room with a black void that threatened to reveal untold horrors at a moment’s notice. Pure imagination and fear created monsters and demons that would lurk in the shadows, stalking their prey from the safety of darkness as they silently mocked anypony who would dare too imagine the untold horrors that existed outside of their knowledge.
However, one mare was unfazed by the non-existent threats that crawled in the recesses of her mind. Copper Plate, an elderly mare who had seen the worst of monsters rise to power in a little under a week, was too focused on the real monsters that laid on the pages of her books to worry about the manifestations of fear that took refuge in the shadows of uncertainty.
The monster of choice that haunted her thoughts at that moment was a demon that had existed nearly four hundred years before the foundation of the Crystal Empire. A demon that was half pony and half minotaur, a monster that had proclaimed itself to be the king of demons, a beast that had needed all three alicorns to defeat: Tirek.
She studied the artistic rendition of the demon intently, taking notes of any attributes that matched her new and mysterious lord. His flat face and upper body were eerily similar to the new lord of the Crystal Empire, to the point where she could almost imagine Tirek’s face slipping onto Lord Skeletor’s skull like a mask. His furless face and arms were also an odd similarity that drew her attention since the only creatures in Equestrian that didn’t have fur were those that had scales, with the exception of Tirek and Lord Skeletor.
Even Tirek’s brother, Scorpan, a simian like demon with leathery thestral wings and a lion’s head, had fur that covered his body with the exception of his hands and feet. Unlike his brother, the simian like demon was never captured and punished for the torment he caused during his brother’s rampage.
It was only after an intense battle that reshaped Equestria that the demon, Tirek, was finally banished to the only scrap of Tartarus that the alicorns had domain over, a prison for monsters that the immortals had faced during their initial rise to power over the pony tribes. Their small prison in Tartarus was the result of a great battle to capture a route to the afterlife, led by the crusading forces of Gusty the Great and her army of ruvas and unicorns a few hundred years before the tribes had begun their great disputes over the land.
The demonic monster had caused untold death and destruction with his rampage across Equestria, draining the magic from every pony he could find as he tore through Equestria. The knowledge that the blood red demon was locked away in the bowls of Tartarus brought a small sense of ease to Copper Plate’s mind as she read over his passage, but the slight feeling of dread never left her as she studied the picture of Tirek and his brother.
Even when she would immerse herself in her studies as she searched for any mention of a country called, “A-Mare-Ika” her concerns and worries would worm their way into the beloved pages of her books. It was only by chance that she stumbled on the passage of the two demons a few days before, and it was her insatiable curiosity that drove her back to the same passage. The concerning similarities between the two demons and her lord caused her mind to draw parallels between them. Her eyes traced the gentle brush strokes that created the image of the pair of demons, imagining the true terror that the duo would inspire in their victims as they stalked caravans of ponies that were trying to survive in Equestria. Whoever had painted the illustration of the monsters had gone unnamed by the books author, and Copper Plate couldn't help but wonder what type of pony was able to capture their likenesses.
In a strange way, the mystery of the painter reminded Copper Plate of Lord Skeletor's odd order to have painters sign their portraits, even going as far as to have the painters learn how to spell their own names to do it. At first, she didn't understand Lord Skeletor's incessant need to have the painters devote a piece of the portraits to their own names. But, after realizing that the pony who had depicted the terrifying demons was likely one of their many unnamed victims, she couldn't help but feel sorry for the stallion or mare who had witnessed untold horrors at the hands and claws of the demonic siblings.
As she briefly lamented over the unknown pony who had become lost to the pages of time, her eyes wandered back to the text that accompanied the image of the demons. Copper Plate re-read the same lines of Equestria’s history, almost reciting the lines from memory alone as she glanced at the familiar words of warning.
“Beware the descendants of death and destruction, feeding on the lives of the innocent as they spread chaos and fear,” Copper Plate read aloud.
She searched the pages for any mention of their origin, as if looking for some indisputable proof that Lord Skeletor wasn’t connected to the demons who plagued Equestria’s history. While she humored Avid Value’s belief that Lord Skeletor was a being born in Faust’s domain, she couldn’t completely believe his wild story. What use was there for “presidents” and “money” in heaven? To Copper Plate, they sounded more like inventions that were created to prevent chaos and anarchy, a system of control and power that stopped a land on the brink of despair from crumbling with rules upon rules that kept their world hidden from the prying eyes of mortals and divine deities.
No matter how she tried to view her lord's alleged words to Avid Value, the eldest member of the council returned to one conclusion. Lord Skeletor, the creature that had saved the Crystal Empire, restored the Crystal Heart, and enacted laws and plans to benefit the safety and security of the Crystal Empire was a demon that had managed to crawl out of Tartarus. And yet, almost in spite of the terrifying reality of having a demon be crowned king, Copper Plate felt... nothing.
She wasn't horrified or afraid, nor was she hopeful and cheerful about Lord Skeletor's reign; In fact, she was strangely unfazed by the revelation that she would serve a demon for the rest of her mortal life. It was exceedingly better than what she had been forced to do under King Sombra’s “rule”, and Lord Skeletor had accomplished his tasks decently enough for an inexperienced leader, so she felt no real reason to fear for her life or to sing his praises from the rooftops.
Despite her lack of fear for her own safety, she still felt a pang of worry for the other council members, specifically how the actions of the Royal Guard’s general would affect her new friend. Copper Plate believed that it would only be a matter of time until Cannon Fodder’s paranoia caused him to do something irreparably stupid once he returned from the expedition to the Ruva Kingdom.
She didn’t fear death, she knew that there was a realm for ponies to travel to once they passed on, Gusty the Great had proven that with her discovery of Tartarus. Copper Plate, much like the Gusty the Great herself, had been at points in her life where the thought of dying sooner in order to cross into sanctuary crossed her mind, especially when she was under the control of King Sombra. However, the rules of Faust prevented Gusty, and many other ponies by extent, from taking such a drastic step towards the end, for it was written by the divine weaver herself that sanctuary in her domain could only be obtained through living a life of preaching love and harmony, and to end one’s life early would reject the gift of peace she had given them in life. So, Copper Plate didn’t have to worry about where she would end up after she died, but she was concerned with how painful that death could be, especially for her friend, Emerald Secret.
Copper Plate hated to think about what would happen to her friend if General Cannon Fodder ever acted on his paranoia, and she feared what would happen to Emerald Secret if Lord Skeletor learned about the general’s plans. She did her best to suppress those dark thoughts by diving back in to the one place of refuge she had in the Empire, the words of her books.
As she browsed the pages of the book for any information relating to demons from Equestria’s past, either to learn more about Lord Skeletor or to distract her from her growing concerns, the door to the Royal Archives creaked open and announced the arrival of an unknown pony.
The hinges of the large doors screamed out in defiance against the visitor, demanding to stay in their original position. Untold years of being unused had left the hinges old and rusted, causing the pony on the other side of the door to struggle as they forced the doors to open.
“Hello?” Copper Plate called out to her unknown visitor.
“Copper?” Emerald Secret said from the entrance to the archives. “Oh good, I was hoping that I would find you here. Where are you?”
“Row eight,” Copper Plate replied as she closed the book and placed it back on its shelf.
She took care to carefully wrap the book back up in its chains, securely locking the book to its spot on the shelf to keep it safe. She used the week flames from the burning wax candles to check her work, making sure to check the strength of the chains before she turned her attention towards her guest.
“How can you see anything in here? It’s so dark,” Emerald complained as she trotted down the aisle of bookshelves.
“I don’t need much light to read, just enough to see the table in front of me,” Copper Plate explained. “Besides, candles are a fire hazard. I’d rather not risk having too many candles to light and remember to snuff out.”
“Well, a little light wouldn’t hurt, you probably wouldn’t strain your eyes as much if you had a few more lit candles.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re right,” Copper Plate shrugged. “Then again, it’s a bit too much work for me to light all those candles on the chandelier by myself. So, what brings you here?”
“Well, Lord Skeletor was waiting in the council room for you and Colonel Kernel and—'
“Wait. Oh no, I’m late?!” Copper Plate panicked. “No, no, I have—'
“Calm down, Copper, everything is fine,” Emerald assured her. “While we were waiting for you and Colonel Kernel, one of the maids informed us that the colonel fell unconscious in the hallway. The meeting was dismissed and Lord Skeletor went to the medical wing to check on Colonel Kernel. I just came here to make sure you were alright.”
“Oh, really? What happened to the colt?”
“Apparently, he didn’t eat much at breakfast, electing to try on his armor before he filled himself up. The doctors said he just needed some more food and a little bit of rest. So, what book did you bury yourself in to lose track of time?” Emerald Secret asked with a jovial smile.
“It was a few books, actually. I started off looking at any books with geographical maps in them, and slowly worked my way towards Equestrian history and the involvement of the other nations.”
“And what was so interesting that you lost track of time?” Emerald inquired as she glanced at the rows of chained books.
“I’ve been looking for anything that could allude to Lord Skeletor’s origins,” Copper Plate admitted easily. “I’ve been trying to find any mention of ‘A-Mare-Ika’ to no avail.”
“Why were you looking for that?”
“Call it an ‘insatiable curiosity’. I suppose I just wanted to learn a bit more about him.”
“Funny, you should have been at breakfast if that’s the case. He told us a lovely story about meeting a friend after helping him write a book.”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“Nope,” Emerald chirped happily. “He and his friend wrote books in their country under assumed names to tell the story of a young group of heroes. It was a pretty interesting tale, I especially enjoyed relationship that developed between the princess and the caravan’s leader. I really do wish you were there, it was quite the story to hear.”
“Are you kidding me? Of course, I’d miss a chance to learn something new about Lord Skeletor and his love for literature,” Copper Plate lamented as she heaved a heavy sigh. “Remind me not to miss breakfast with Lord Skeletor ever again.”
“I’ll be sure to do that. We could trot to the dining hall together after viewing the Crystal Heart in the morning,” she suggested. “It’d be nice to spend more time with you, I really enjoy our talks. In fact, now I can tell you all about what Lord Skeletor told us at breakfast.”
“Hmmm… You know, I’d love that. Don’t leave anything out, I want to know everything.”
“Alright, alright,” Emerald chuckled. “But only if we can talk somewhere more… well lit? We could go for a trot around the castle before lunch.”
"That sounds perfect, just help me put out the candles and we can go out," Copper Plate said as she trotted towards a stepping ladder.
After getting a good grip on the bars of the ladder with her teeth, the older mare began to pull it under the chandelier before her legs suddenly buckled underneath her and she winced in pain.
“Are you alright?” Emerald worryingly asked as she slowly helped Copper Plate up to her hooves.
“I-I-owww. It’s fine, I’m fine. I just pulled a muscle, that’s all,” Copper Plate said as she limped over to her chair with Emerald’s help.
“Maybe we should take you to the medical wing,” Emerald suggested as she glanced at Copper Plate’s raised hind leg.
“It’s not that serious. I probably just need some more potassium,” Copper Plate waved off, repressing the urge to visibly wince as she sat down. “Just give me a minute or two, and I’ll be trotting circles around the castle.”
“Are you sure, maybe—”
“I’ll be fine, Emerald. I just need to sit down for a bit. Why don't you tell me a little about what you heard at breakfast to pass the time, then we can trot around the castle,” Copper Plate pleadingly suggested as she adjusted her seating to make herself more comfortable.
“Well... Alright," Emerald relented before she gave Copper Plate a stern look. “But if you're not better in the next fifteen minutes, we're going to the medical wing, and that's final.”
“Don't worry, I'll be fine. Now, tell me what Lord Skeletor told you,” Copper Plate said as her tail swayed in anticipation.
Emerald sighed as she sat down on the floor of the Royal Archives. “Okay. Well, Lord Skeletor's story started with meeting an aspiring author named Tuvar in a community gathering for historians who primarily focused their research on a group of heroes that existed long before he was born...”
The hours after Skeletor’s visit to the infirmary to check in on Colonel Kernel passed far too quickly for the displaced man. After lightly chastising the half-conscious stallion for not taking better care of himself, Skeletor left Colonel Kernel so he could recover in peace with the intention of spending his time in the forge to see if he could order a custom set of armor from one of the Blacksmiths.
Avid Value had personally volunteered to deliver Skeletor's request to the Blacksmiths without any hesitation once Skeletor had made his intentions known to the other council members. It was odd to see the young council member act so eagerly about something that didn't relate to the Empire's finances, but Skeletor simply waved it off as Avid wanting to do something nice for him.
With nothing else to do in the few hours until lunch, Skeletor went to his room to practice his magic in private. It had taken nearly an hour for Skeletor to track down a specific spell that he had only glanced at before. Just like most of his spells, the protective barrier spell relied on an immense amount of emotional power and physical stamina. While a majority of magical shields usually used the caster's mental focus as a source of energy, Skeletor decided to use his emotions and strength as a power source instead. One too many levitation spells quickly taught Skeletor that spells relying on mental energy would leave him in a zombie like state while casting or would leave him with a raging headache afterwards. The strain of emotional and physical magic was, by comparison to him, a far less taxing and painful source of energy for his spells.
Skeletor stood in the center of his room with his Havoc Staff planted in the floor directly in front of him, allowing him to stare directly into the eye-sockets of the golden-horned ram skull. His gaze never faltered as he focused on converting his emotions into a source of power, draining him of his hope, love, and bravery. A vile sickness crawled through his soul as Skeletor forced more of his emotions to be sapped away by his scepter, causing the energetic hum of magical aura grew in intensity once the horns of the scepter began to glow a faint green color.
He could feel his emotions seeping out of his pours as he continued his spell, resisting the urge to vomit from the strain of the magic on his body, soul, and mind. His muscles strained to keep his arms leveled as he held the scepter in front of him, willing his altered emotions to form a physical wall around him. A vitriolic hatred filled the vacuum that his missing emotions left, causing his temper to rise as his spell continued to fail.
Flashes of his past failures played before Skeletor, reminding him of his many failed attempts to return home. Each memory caused his anger to rise until it came to an intense climax, resulting in a powerful explosion of emotions to erect a powerful shield to protect Skeletor from even the worst of magical attacks.
A solid green field of magical energy rose around the Lord of the Crystal Empire, tearing apart the pieces of his emotions and weaving them into a nearly indestructible barrier that could defend against the worst of calamities and weather the worst any apocalyptic event could throw at it. The scraps of Skeletor's emotional stability tore themselves apart to form a solid mass of raw magical power, creating a breath-taking representation of all his hope, joy, and love as they danced in front of his eye-sockets. Time slowed to a crawl as Skeletor saw the physical manifestation of his emotions dance around him, completely enraptured by the beautiful imagery that was hidden in the weaving emotions. The harsh hum of magical energy quickly transformed into an angelic melody that brought him a relieving sense of clarity.
The barrier that entombed him promised him a place of refuge and safety, an escape from the harsh reality of the world that existed outside of the magical shield, protecting him from any threat that could ever cause him physical harm. For the first time in weeks, Skeletor felt completely at ease.
His momentary relief from the cruel reality of the outside world was protected by the impenetrable barrier for a total of five seconds until it suddenly collapsed without warning.
Skeletor could only stare in disbelief as he watched his hard work vanish in the blink of an eye, crumbling under the weight of a gentle breeze that drifted in through his open window. In a fraction of a moment, his hard work and effort evaporated and left him completely defenseless.
As his mind began to accept the fact that he had failed yet again, his remaining emotions started to flood his soul with an indescribable fury that begged to be released from his body, filling the gaping hole that his missing emotions had left behind once they were taken for the spell. Anger and fear struggled for dominance in his body, smashing together in an unholy attempt to create a bastardization of his missing emotions. His fraying sanity was tormented by intense feelings of inadequacy and misery, feeding the fires of his rage as his latest failure finally settled in.
Skeletor's wilting sense of hope dried up and withered away as he stared into the mocking eye-sockets of the Havoc Staff. The instrument of his power, and the one item he had that remained from his previous life, silently ridiculed Skeletor with its indifference to his misery, causing the beaten down lord to lash out at the scepter.
“GOD DAMMNIT!” Skeletor exclaimed as he allowed himself to be swallowed by his rage and slammed the head of his scepter into his dresser, burying it deep into the top drawer once the skull effortlessly smashed through the top of the dresser.
“FUCK!” Skeletor shouted as he ripped the Havoc Staff out of the dresser before he threw it against the floor. “FUCKING HORSE SHIT ASS, PIECE OF MOTHERFUCK! FUCK THIS! FUCK THE WORLD! FUCK LIFE! FUCK MAGIC!” Skeletor screamed to the ceiling while he continued to vocalize his anger to the empty room, ending up in a trance of blind rage as his mouth began to work faster than his mind.
“Fucking shit! I bet Evil-Lyn didn’t have to put up with this inane training! NNNNNooooo. She got her fucking powers handed to her on a silver platter by that faceless fool of a father that dares to call himself the ruler of Zalesia! Why does the world strive to defy my desires?! It’s BULLSHIT! Magic should bend to my whim and submit to me, so why does it constantly try to make a fool out of me? ME?!
“I AM LORD SKELETOR, DAMNIT! I AM THE MASTER OF ALL EVIL, THE RIGHTFUL HEIR TO THE ETERNIAN THRONE! SO, SUBMIT TO ME! I DEMAND WHAT IS RIGHTFULLY MINE, DAMN YOU! I DEMAND IT! I DEMAND… I…. I demand… I… Idema...” Skeletor’s voice grew weaker and more haggard as he fell to his knees, letting his muscles give out from under him after losing the feeling in his limbs.
The room began to spin for Skeletor as bright flashes of light appeared at the corner of his vision before the world around him fell deathly silent. His vision grew blurrier as tears welled up in his eye-sockets, blinding him during his few remaining moments of full consciousness as the remaining rational part of his mind began to panic.
Skeletor struggled to swallow gasps of air as he fell to the floor, desperately trying to breath as his body vehemently refused to cooperate. His lungs and throat burned as if he had just run a marathon, and his muscles begged for the sweet release of death, refusing his own desperate desire to live as they began to move against his will.
His muscles spasmed sporadically as he laid on the floor, twitching at random moments and slamming against the hard crystal floor. The last thing that Skeletor was able to notice before he blacked out was a flare of pain inside his mouth as his teeth clenched down on his tongue.
Total darkness enveloped his mind while he laid on the floor, allowing his aching body to rest once his muscles stopped twitching. Time became meaningless to Skeletor as he laid on the floor, minutes and hours becoming interwoven into an incoherent mess to the unconscious man. As quickly as his torment had begun, it was over in what he felt was only a few seconds, as if he had just taken a small nap on the floor of his room.
The only signs of his episode were his sore muscles and the pain in his tongue from when he had bitten it. His body still refused to listen to his demands, residing itself to remain planted on the cold floor of his room as his mind began to recuperate. The question of why he was on the floor briefly passed through his mind before a splitting headache derailed any attempts to question his position.
“Wha… Wha….” Skeletor’s voice was ragged as he tried to speak, only coming out as a grotesque wheeze between large gasps of breath.
His unnaturally twisted and mangled emotions returned to their normal state of equilibrium as Skeletor reclaimed some sense of clarity. The memories of what had happened stayed out of his grasp, dancing on the edge of his mind with the promise to come closer only to move farther away the more he tried to remember.
“What... What was I—”
An all too familiar feeling of a violent stab of pain was all he received for his efforts to recall what had happened to him, reminding him of the first few nights he had stayed in the Crystal Empire.
“Gah! Fuck! My head!.. Fuck, it feels like it’s going to explode,” Skeletor lamented as he once again attempted to push himself off the floor.
His movements were sluggish as he tried to get up, barely managing to move more than a few inches a second. With a great deal of effort, Skeletor managed to flip onto his back and sprawl out on the floor, allowing his limbs to be splayed haphazardly as he laid down.
The ragged rise and fall of his chest soon eased to a more methodic pace as he stared at the ceiling. Skeletor lightly winced as he angled his skull to get a better look out the window. From what Skeletor could tell, it was still light enough outside for it to be near when the council meeting was dismissed.
A few minutes passed as Skeletor lazily stared out the window, watching the distant hues of the shield change as the rays of the sun passed through the magical barrier that hung over the Crystal Empire. The faint memory of a barrier spell flashed in his mind as he marveled at the large shield, causing the sore lord of the Crystal Empire to glance at his bed where the spell book was still resting.
As he moved his skull to look at the bed, Skeletor noticed the splinters of wood that littered the floor in front of the dresser and saw that his scepter was tossed to the other side of the room. Skeletor’s gaze quickly flicked over to the bookshelf to make sure it was still intact before he released a sigh of relief. Whatever had happened thankfully hadn’t harmed any of the magical tomes that lined his shelves.
To think, he had only managed to read through two and a half books since his first night in the Empire. Skeletor had many books about magic thanks to Copper Plate, but even after several nights of foregoing sleep to read, Skeletor had only managed to get through a measly three books. So much information could fit into just three books, three colorful tomes that held the only possible hope of keeping him alive and finding a way back to earth.
“The spell… I… I was… testing out some spells, and then…Fuck, what happened then?” Skeletor wondered as he forced himself to sit upright. Once he was able to do so, albeit very shakily, Skeletor was thankful to see that the book laying on his bed had also been unharmed in the incident.
He recited several theories and breakdowns of magic from memory, searching for any new meaning in the verbal vomit of information for a clue as to what happened. Only a few ideas came to mind when he tried, and failed, to remember what happened. The most likely of his theories was that the spell had been too taxing and caused him to pass out. The second most likely theory was something that Skeletor didn’t want to humor in the slightest and outright refused to believe.
Was that a… Magic attack? No, no, I… I probably just needed some sleep. I haven’t gotten a good night’s rest for a while, so that’s probably it. The spell was too much and I fainted. Skeletor dismissed as he ignored the random spikes of pain in his limbs and the dull throbbing of his tongue.
A small lie was easier to accept than the truth that he had absolutely no memory of what happened, and it was easier for him to believe that he had just passed out instead of having a near brush with death. The thought that he had nearly died because of a botched spell was too much for Skeletor to accept, because if he did, he would be too worried to ever try to cast a spell like that again.
As Skeletor reassured himself that everything was fine, he slowly began the painful task of lifting himself back to his feet so he could continue on with his studies. His invisible eye-lids became increasingly heavy as he reached the bed, feeling the comforting embrace of the blanket tickle his skin as he sat down next to his book. As he fought against the urge to lay down in bed for the rest of the day, Skeletor opened the spell book to re-read the section he had left off at.
With so few hours in the day and so little time until his duties as a king would pull him away from his room, it would have been negligent of him to waste the small amount of time he had.
The gentle ticking of the clock on Avid Value’s desk struck him like a hammer with each passing second, hitting the youngest council member with the terrible reminder of how much time he had left before court would begin. A mixture of joyful anticipation and growing worry pushed against his small attempts to distract himself. Any attempts to pass the time by reorganizing his office, counting his bits, or even dusting his shelves were constantly halted or prolonged by a nagging sense of doubt ate away at his mind.
He was still incredibly unsure of how Lord Skeletor would react to his surprise, and the thought of pushing his gift off on to another day had crossed his mind quite a few times. Of course, he could only postpone the inevitable for so long.
Avid Value couldn’t bargain with time like he could with a pony. He couldn’t steal more of it, or do anything to prolong the inevitable, even his choice to sit and ignore the clock as an act of defiance against the harsh truth of time accomplished nothing. No matter what, time would continue to move forward in spite of what he wanted.
“Five more minutes, I’ll give him five more minutes.” He muttered under his breath, as if telling the empty walls of his home that this would be the last time he would say those three words.
Five minutes soon became ten, then thirty, and finally, it inevitably turned into another hour of silence. Once again, the reliable clock reminded him that he had stayed in his office instead of keeping his word and trotting over to the forge to speak with Rage Issues.
He had already used the excuse of delivering Lord Skeletor’s order for armor in order to pry for some information on how the crown was coming along, and any more attempts at prodding would have been too rude for his taste.
Just as clockwork was prone to do, the clock abided to the rules of time and announced the passing of another hour with a quiet chime, not caring how its announcement of the hour’s end would affect the stallion. Lunch would start in a little under an hour, and he would get one last chance to speak to Lord Skeletor before court would start later on.
His hoof anxiously tapped on the top of his desk as he briefly glanced at the clock, watching the hand of the clock chip away at the hours of the day. Avid nervously gnawed at his lip as he counted the seconds that passed, debating the pros and cons of checking in on Rage Issues in the forge.
Eventually, with no plan on how to approach the larger stallion, Avid swallowed his nerves and decided to trot to the forge. His calm and confident canter hid a worry of inadequacy and a deep concern for what the near future would hold. Avid resisted the urge to turn back to his office and wait until after lunch to approach Rage Issues by convincing himself that it was better to just get it out of the way and hope for the best.
His quick canter unfortunately devolved into a lame trot as he drew closer to the forge, feeling his stomach turn-in on itself while he trotted through the halls. Avid wore a reassuring smile on his face, hoping to trick himself into believing that everything would be perfectly fine as he nonchalantly greeted the few guards and maids that he passed by.
After taking the extra few seconds to complement each pony he passed in a vain attempt to but a few precious seconds of time before he reached the forge, Avid Value reluctantly turned the last corner he needed to, to trot to the forge, trotting with the reluctance of a pony that was heading towards the gallows with a fake welcoming smile plastered on his muzzle.
He soon stood in front of the doors to the forge, waiting for any excuse to turn back to his room to pop into in his mind. The last obstacle between him and Lord Skeletor’s gift was a large metal door that was only ever locked at the late hours of the night. With no shortage of trepidation and worry coursing through his veins, Avid Value took a calming breath before he pushed open the door to trot in.
The familiar hiss of hot metal being dipped into barrels of water or oil hit Avid’s ears as several hammers rang out in the forge. The smell of smoke and burning iron wafted through the air, creating a cloud of obnoxious fumes that caused Avid Value to cough as the exhaust from the furnaces tickled his throat.
The many stallions working in the forge barely glanced up from their work to look at Avid Value before they returned to the task of adjusting armor or building tools for the reconstruction team to use. Only Rage Issues, the hardest working of all the crystal ponies in the forge, ignored the sound of the door opening and the subsequent coughs that followed.
Rage Issues was far too busy refining the edge of a spear tip to notice the youngest council member, running the blade over a whetstone to sharpen the spear tip. He sat on his custom-made stool, hunched over a large workbench that was filled with various tools and implements for repairing or refining metal.
As the largest stallion in the forge continued to refine the point of the spear, Avid Value trotted up to Rage Issues with a large smile.
“Heeeey, Rage, so listen, I know that you’re probably really busy and you don’t have time, but—”
“It’s done,” Rage Issues bluntly interrupted as he briefly glanced up from his work.
“Wait, what?”
“Crown’s done.”
“Really? It’s finally done?”
“It is,” Rage Issues said as he hopped off of his stool to fetch a satchel off of a hook.
“Yes! Wait, you’re sure it’s done? I mean, maybe we should give it a few days? There’s probably more that needs to be done, right?”
“Nope.”
“But, maybe—”
“Quit worrying,” Rage Issues interrupted again as he shoved the satchel into Avid Value’s barrel. “Take it.”
Following Rage’s command, Avid Value held the old and weathered satchel in his hooves, feeling the surprisingly light weight of the crown that was nestled away inside of the bag. A moment of curiosity was all it took for Avid’s hoof to search the inside of the bag, feeling the cold metal and smooth rubies brush against the microscopic setae that covered the bottom of his front hooves.
His breath caught in his throat as he pulled the crown out of the satchel, marveling at the craftsmanship and effort that was put into creating Lord Skeletor’s gift. It was dark grey crown, surmounted with several spikes that had sapphires encrusted at the base of the crown’s headband, with the center piece of the crown being a ruby inside a snowflake made of bones. The satchel slipped from his hooves as Avid Value stared into the reflective gems that decorated the crown, completely forgetting about the piece of fabric once he grasped the crown with both of his fore hooves, falling onto his behind as he brought the crown closer to his eyes.
“It’s… It’s…”
“Good looking?” Rage Issues suggested as he picked up the satchel and hoofed it over to Avid Value.
“Yeah… Well, I… It’s so much more than that! Thank you, for everything, Rage,” Avid Value said as he tucked the crown back in the satchel.
“No problem.”
“I mean it, Rage, this is amazing. I was a bit worried—"
“Excuse you?” Rage Issues asked incredulously.
“Alright, alright, I was really worried. But seeing this in person, it…. It feels reassuring. I’m certain that he’ll love it. Thank you, Rage,” Avid Value said earnestly as he looked into Rage Issues eyes.
“… You’re welcome,” Rage Issues replied before he returned to his workbench.
“Take care Rage, I’ll see you later,” Avid Value called out as he happily trotted out of the Forge.
With only a few hours left until court would begin, Avid Value trotted to his room to hid the crown under his bed before he went to the dining hall.
The still and silent air of the dining hall was soon filled with quiet conversations as guards took their seats at the various tables for lunch, comparing their new armor to their old sets of armor over servings of crystalberry stew and bread.
While Avid Value waited patiently for the other council members to arrive and eat their meals with Lord Skeletor, he idly listened to the many conversations that drifted to his ears. There was nothing unexpected to be heard from the many guards’ conversations, reactions were a mix of confidence and awe to a subtle worry about the implications of the new bone themed design, worrying that the guard would be turned into some sort of death patrol to enforce Lord Skeletor’s reign.
Avid Value bit his tongue as he heard those inane conspiracy theories and ludicrous fears. He knew that soon, they would see Lord Skeletor the same way he saw their lord. There was a brief period of time, like them, where he was terrified of their seemingly undead lord. But, after witnessing their lord’s wise decisions and brilliant ideas firsthoof, he became a firm believer in Lord Skeletor’s greatness.
After Avid Value gave his order to one of the staff members, he was quickly joined by the other council members, sans Copper Plate who had been sent to the medical wing of the castle at the behest of Emerald Secret. The royal Advisor for Lord Skeletor didn’t delve into any details regarding the eldest council member, but made it known that Copper Plate would likely miss court due to an incident she had in the archives. The youngest council member sent his prayers to Faust for Copper Plate’s health, wishing her all the best as he ate with the other council members.
In a rare move from their lord, Lord Skeletor had requested to have his food sent to his room while he worked on a “secret project”. Avid Value greatly admired his lord's great efforts to help the Crystal Empire, and internally praised Lord Skeletor for whatever he was planning. No doubt, their lord was hard at work thinking of new ways to improve the Crystal Empire and help the crystal ponies who lived there.
Aside from Copper Plate’s absence and the odd way Colonel Kernel would glance around the dining hall, nothing of note occurred during lunch for the council members. With their bellies properly nourished with some of the Crystal Empire’s finest attempts at stew using jam and a few vegetables that were scrounged up from the subterranean farms, Avid Value excused himself from the table and quickly trotted back to his room to grab his satchel for court, preparing his words as he went over the best plan to present Lord Skeletor with his crown.
In almost the blink of an eye, the time between lunch and court completely vanished, and the call to duty urged Avid Value to quickly canter to the court room. The two guards standing at attention next to the throne room doors wore their new steel armor proudly, showing off an unparalleled confidence as they stared at the line of ponies that was beginning to form outside the throne room.
A pair of large metal crossbones were engraved into each guard’s breast plate, drawing any wandering eyes to the prominently placed rubies that were placed at the intersection of the bones, allowing the guards to mimic Lord Skeletor’s bone themed aesthetic. Aside from the new purple accents in their straps and the aforementioned decoration that was added to the breast plate, the only differences between the new and old guard armor was that theirs was darker than the old iron armor sets.
Once Avid Value had appraised the new sets of armor long enough, he trotted closer to the door and silently prompted one of the guards to open it for him.
The first thing Avid Value noticed when he trotted into the room was that Lord Skeletor was already seated on his throne, nursing a larger than average cup of tea in his hands with a teapot resting at the base of his throne next to his clawed feet. The naturally imposing height of his lord was only amplified by his higher position atop the amethyst stairs that led to his obsidian throne, framing him as an almost godlike figure who was closer to Faust than they were.
To his steadily reemerging worries and trepidations, Avid Value was the first council member to arrive to court, leaving him and his lord the only ones in the throne room.
“You’re here earlier than I expected,” Avid Value said, more-so to himself than to his lord.
Lord Skeletor placed his cup of tea down for a moment to look down upon the youngest council member, making Avid Value feel smaller than he already was.
“I guess I am. You could say I was… Thinking with portals. Nye-heh-heh,” Lord Skeletor joked before he quietly muttered to himself with a deep look of contemplation on his skull. “… Is that how I laugh?”
“Ah, uh… Very clever, your highness,” Avid Value lied after failing to find the humor in Lord Skeletor’s comment. “I see that you’re in a good mood.”
“There’s rarely a reason not to be,” Lord Skeletor replied as he poured himself another cup of tea, completely draining the teapot of its contents as a result.
“Well, I uh… Prepare to feel even better, because I-we, we, the rest of the council and I, thought that uh… You deserve a gift, well, not gift since you earned it and we just thought that you’d like it presented as a gift so I thought I’d call it a gift,” Avid Value stammered as all of his prepared statements became nothing but mush in his brain.
His lips and throat felt incredibly dry as he spoke to Lord Skeletor. Words poured out quicker than his mind could think, causing his steady panic to slowly rise and trip even more over his own words. The fear and worry that he had managed to shrug off earlier returned with a vengeance, mocking him with thoughts of how disappointed Lord Skeletor would be with him.
“So, it is with great pride and honor that I present your new crown,” Avid Value managed to finally say as he held the decorative crown in his fore hooves.
Avid Value focused his gaze solely on the crown that rested in his hooves, staring at the glistening sapphires with the intensity of a scolding father, silently begging for the best outcome to occur and for his highness to be happy. He stared at the crown with a fresh set of eyes, searching for any imperfections that may had been missed by the others so that he could apologize before Lord Skeletor accepted his gift.
As Avid Value was staring at the crown with a new scrutinizing gaze, measuring the quality and cut of each sapphire and engraving, an odd silence that caught the young treasurer’s attention.
He tore his eyes from the crown to look up at his highness who was staring dumbly at the piece of metal that rested in Avid Value’s hooves, watching the natural light of the sun’s rays reflect on the sapphires that decorated the crown. Lord Skeletor’s eye sockets were securely glued to the crown, not allowing his body or skull to display any sense of emotion as he focused on the symbol of his authority.
The silence that hung in the throne room began to stretch for an uncomfortable amount of time, causing Avid’s nervous fear to rise with each passing second.
“Um… Your highness?” Avid Value said, breaking Lord Skeletor out of his trance. “Do… Do you not like it?”
“N-No!” His highness nearly shouted as he suddenly shot out of his throne. “I-I mean, yes, er—no, I like it. I uh... I just… Um… I love it, I… I'll wear it right now!”
After Lord Skeletor made his declaration clear, he descended from the dais of throne to walk towards Avid Value, taking large strides from his throne to take what was rightfully owed to him. It only took less than a fraction of a minute for Lord Skeletor to stand in front of Avid Value, allowing the Lord of the Crystal Empire to look at the crown more intimately.
His hands hesitantly moved to the edges of the crown, grazing the metal and crystals with his fingers before he firmly grasped the sides of the crown with his palms. As he lifted his gift from Avid Value’s hooves, he took his time to admire the crown closely before he placed it on his skull, possibly giving the crown his own appraisal before he deemed it worthy of resting on his head.
Lord Skeletor’s jaw moved in an uneasy and almost unnatural way to stretch them into the shape of a smile, allowing his fangs to become more prominent as he held his head high and adopted the stance of royalty. He displayed a sense of power that demanded respect, and exuded an air of confidence that made him appear larger than he actually was.
“There, fits like a glove,” Lord Skeletor observed before walking over towards one of the walls to admire his reflection in the crystals. “Thank you, Avid. It really is a beautiful crown, I’ll be sure to thank the other council members too.”
Despite the words of praise that Lord Skeletor had given to his Royal Treasurer, Avid Value felt a familiar sense of nagging doubt poke at his mind. While his highness looked and sounded confident in his royal garb, there was something to it that felt unnatural to Avid Value about his highness, an uneasy feeling that he couldn't shake away.