Christen

by DeathToPonies


Christen

Light.

Movement, steps, light. Voice, crunch, voice, light. Step. Door. Water, water, clean. Stop. Light. Noise, noise. Wind. Concrete. Steps, steps. Voice.

Blink.

The methodical ringing of the Canterlot city bell pulled the stallion into lucidity. As if waking from a dream, he realized slowly that he had indeed been conscious for several hours. In only a few dozen thoughts, Prince Blueblood had passed through half of his day. As he began to focus his surroundings, he lamented just how common such an occurrence was these days. He commonly found himself lost in his own thoughts, drifting in and out of lucidity. Now in a brief spot of complete consciousness, he found himself in a bustling city square. In stark contrast to his morning, he was suddenly hyperaware of the detail in the world around him. Every stone, every sign, every weave on every basket stood out to him as important. The giggle of a young filly running through the street caught his attention, standing out louder than other sounds, and in a few isolated instants he visualized the entire life story of the young foal, dashing through the streets to get to a shop with a sale on candy, at the time the most important thing in her entire world. The creak of a wooden door suddenly prompted him to imagine every single time the door had been opened before now, every single stallion, mare, and foal that had gone through those doors, each with their own thoughts, their own stories. In several brief flashes of light, hundreds of faces flashed before his eyes, and each and every one was just as relevant of the last. For just this one brief moment, he was here, in the now.

Notably to him, however, nopony around seemed to pay him any mind as they hustled and bustled about, going about their day.

He looked up at the beautiful sky, and isolated the clean sound of the breeze above the market's street. Slowly, the hustle and bustle faded away into the background, the hundreds of life stories that had passed through his mind quickly dispersing into his subconscious. Only the methodical clang of the bell pierced his mental barrier, accompanying the wind as a background instrument in a cacophony of peace.

"It's so beautiful," he spoke to himself quietly, his head still craned up as he rambled on, "Does...does anypony see this? Why isn't anypony looking? Something up there..."

He closed his eyes, converting his world to darkness, the sound of the bell ringing once more, piercing the silence of the wind.

"It's different today..."


Silence.

"My prince, you've barely touched your food," spoke Janice, a royal guard on Blueblood's watch. Cutting the deafening quiet, she observed as the prince sat in a quiet room with a serene view, surrounded on either side by herself and another guard. Massive windows stretched almost twenty feet into the air around nearly the entire perimeter. On a small glass table, the only furniture in the room, a plate of food sat in front of him. The armored mare looked at the prince with an empathetic expression, one born from true emotions and not just a sense of one's duty. The prince blinked, an empty expression on his face.

"Read the room, Janice," scoffed Barkmeadow, the other guard, "You know the news he just got."

"I only know because you eavesdropped, you creep," snapped the mare, with a passion that spoke of repeated emotions.

"So I did you a favor? What's new, toots?" spoke the stallion, with a bravado that spoke of heartbreak and ambivalence.

"I just want to help the prince, because-"

"Because you're in love with him?"

"No! I just...feel like I could help...fix him."

"Oh, wow, I've never heard that one before."

"Shut UP, Bark."

"Because all you ever want is to fix everypony."

"That's not true."

"Then why do you lose interest when they're fixed?"

"This is not about us, Bark."

"It never was about us, was it, Janice?'

"Why....did it have to be...her?" interjected Blueblood, cutting off his guards abruptly, though speaking slowly. His voice sounded deep, yet empty, as if he was trying to hold back true emotion. It became immediately clear to the two guards that he had not absorbed a word of their conversation.

"There are so many mares here. Here, in Canterlot. Why her? Why did it...why did they tell me it had to be her?"

The two guards stared in silence at Blueblood, then at each other, and then back at him, unsure of what exactly to do.


Triumphant music blared through the sky, trumpets and bells, as the great Princess Celestia's voice boomed over the entire city.

"CITIZENS OF CANTERLOT!" she spoke joyously, "IT IS WITH GREAT PLEASURE THAT I WELCOME YOU TO ATTEND THE CHRISTENING OF THE GREAT AIRSHIP, THE S.S. LUNA!"

Loud applause and cheers erupted from the streets, and hundreds of ponies immediately dropped what they were doing to immediately make arrangements to see the S.S. Luna, Celestia's newest Airship, depart on its maiden voyage. An airship christening was among one of the most exciting and celebrated events in the city - a true testament to high class society. Everypony who was anypony would be there. Rumors and conversations began spinning among the entire population of Canterlot.

After all...

"After all..."

"Did you hear?"

"I heard that it's as big as a castle!"

"I heard that it's as big as a mountain!"

"I heard Luna's going to be there herself!"

"No way? She stayed up this long? It's almost six!"

"Did you hear?"

"After all..."

"There's gonna be a huge party!"

"Did you know there would be a party?"

"What am I wearing to the party?"

"I've never seen an airship launch before!"

"I have, but just the Manhattonian. This is supposed to be five times as big!"

"What should I wear to the party?"

"After all..."

"Did you hear?"

"There's no way..."

"What are we gonna eat?"

"After all..."

"Did you hear?"

"....Rarity's going to be there."


Clang, clang.

The bells were deafeningly loud. Blueblood stood on the edge of the cliff, eyes fixed forward at the gigantic airship. It floated, bouncing slowly, up and down. He dare not look to his left. He stared at a slightly loose plank on the bow, wondering the story of how it came to be this way. He thought of a carpenter, named Nail in his mind, slacking off on the job one day.

Great job, Nail, he thought. Great job, Nail, said the imaginary supervisor. You can go home early today. Phew, thought Nail, they didn't notice I did a bad job. Nopony noticed my mistake. Nopony noticed.

He DARE not look to his left.

Clang, clang.

The roar of the crowd beneath him grew louder and louder. Ponies below cheered and sung to such a degree that it began to sound like chants. The sun peaked down below the airship, the sky beginning to turn an orange, dusk hue. In his mind, they all began to move as one, blurring together in slow motion. Faces melted together among the crowd as they cheered, their mouths moving in nearly unspeakable ways. He began to hear his name...

"Blueblood!"

He blinked. Was it real?

"Blueblood!"

He watched their mouths.

"Blueblood! Blueblood!"

He couldn't tell. He just couldn't...

"Blueblood?" asked Rarity, concerned, just inches from his face.

The voice snapped him out of it instantly. Blinking slowly, he turned, wide eyed, to face the beautiful mare to his left. She bore a concerned look on her face, like she noticed something was wrong. In her hoof, she held the bottle to smash against the hull. Time seemed to completely stop, Blueblood thought - as Rarity looked at him, ready to speak again, holding that bottle, it was like the entire crowd vanished, waiting at her mercy.

"Blueblood...are you okay?"

He swallowed, barely able to keep eye contact. He couldn't speak a word. Rarity continued to look at him with that look on her face. Anger began to build inside of him. What was with that face? It was the face of somepony who cared. She didn't care. She DID NOT care. As she looked away in defeat, ready to throw the bottle, he began to turn towards her with a furious expression on his face, ready to shout every single thing on his mind since that fateful night-

Smash.

Rarity had released the bottle, smashing against the ship in a brilliant manner, the sun reflecting off the glass as it all fell into the canyon below. The crowd erupted into an even louder cacophony of screams and excitement, several loud and audible cheers for Rarity escaping them. Rarity sighed, as if she was unsatisfied by this particular interaction, and began to slowly walk away from the ship. Blueblood blinked.

"Do you...know a small village called Haystable?" he asked in his dead, droning tone. Rarity heard him loud and clear over the crowd, as if she was listening, hoping for him to say something. She slowly turned around to face him.

"I grew up there," he continued, still staring off into space in front of him. "Celestia...wanted me to have the life of a normal colt. But it's so close to Canterlot..."

"I know," interjected Rarity, desperate to be a part of this conversation, "just a mile or two down the mountain, yes?"

"Yeah..." sighed Blueblood, with a hint of annoyance from being interrupted, "...so I saw them all the time. The royal, the elite. And I knew...that I would be that someday."

Rarity tried to move closer to Blueblood, but he turned away further as not to face her. Grief stricken, Rarity began to feel the slightest tear forming.

"So I tried. Every day, I'd stand in front of my mirror, and tell myself how great I was. How I was going to be a famous prince one day, and marry a beautiful mare, and be one of the most known stallions in Canterlot."

Rarity blinked. Blueblood looked up to the crimson sky, the bells ringing in the distance as the wind blew through his hair.

"Haystable. Just a mile or two down the mountain. That's where the found me...the night of the Gala. Curled up into a ball, at my childhood home, right in front of that same mirror."

This time, an actual tear fell down Rarity's face.

"I kept telling myself that night, 'You're okay, you're okay". But no matter how many times I said it, every single time I looked up into that mirror, I saw the same thing...failure."

Rarity took a step forward, looking away.

"Blueblood, I'm..."

"I don't need you to talk to me."

"...Becoming as popular as popular can be. I'm making my mark..."

A weak, defeated smile crept across his face.

"Making your mark on high society."

"Yes, I'm the belle of the ball, the star of the show..."

"Yeah."

Rarity blinked, and turned up to face Blueblood, a somber expression on her face as she realized he had been looking at her the entire time.

"I'm the type of pony every pony..."

"Every pony should know."

The two stared at each other for several minutes.

The bells began to ring.