//------------------------------// // Episode II: Ugliness // Story: A Greek Tragedy in Three Parts // by daOtterGuy //------------------------------// Location. We are in the palace. Focus on our lead, Sable Spirit. She sits upon her throne. She fiddles with a knife hidden in her mane, disguised as a pin that was given to her by the Guard. Mistmane enters from Stage Left. Cue. Turn on stage lights. “Nearly two weeks after the initial report about the refugees, Mistmane approaches Sable with concerns about her decisions regarding the situation.” “Like everyone else,” Sable mutters. “Sable, why have you resorted to violence against the refugees?” Mistmane asks. Sable looks down at her. Her eyes show disdain. “They are infected.” “And they need help.” “They can get help somewhere else.” “But they’re here now!” “And ready to kill off our entire village!” Sable slams a hoof on her throne. She takes a moment to calm down, then descends from her perch. She struts toward Mistmane, head held high. “They are dangerous. You saw what happened to Lily when she tried to help them, did you not?” “We just need to be more careful,” Mistmane says. “Set up proper housing and quarantine. Isolate them in such a way to keep us safe but allow us to care for them.” “Except if even one pony makes a mistake, or one refugee decides they don’t like that arrangement, our entire village will be wiped out.” Sable narrows her eyes. “No, they stay outside the gates.” “... Fine,” Mistmane relents. “I know I cannot get you to budge on this matter, but I ask again, must you use force against them?” “They tried to charge the gates!” Sable stomps a hoof to emphasize her point. “A direct attack!” “Because they are desperate!” Mistmane pleads. “If you will not offer them shelter, then can you not at least offer them some modicum of mercy?” “For bringing a plague to our village?!” Mistmane hangs her head. “Mistmane was disappointed in her friend. She had expected better from Sable.” “Don’t give me that!” Sable snaps.  “Give you what?” Mistmane asks. She raises her head sharply. “All this judgement and pity.” She spits the last word. Her rage begins to build again. A common state in the last two weeks. “I don’t need you to rub it in how much better you are than me.” “What? I don’t—” “I hear what the townspeople say!” Sable interrupts. “They want you on the throne. To depose me. Well, too bad! You’ll never have it!” “Where is this coming from, Sable? I don’t want the throne!” “She lies to Sable.” “Yes, you do!” Sable snarls. She pushes her face into Mistmane’s. “The townspeople are planning a coup, aren’t they? Trying to take me down behind my back!” “No! Sable, I’m your friend. I would never do that to you.” Mistmane reaches out a hoof. “She plans to hurt Sable.” “Don’t touch me!” Sable swats away Mistamne’s hoof and backs away. “How dare you try to touch the Empress!” “Sable, please, calm down.” Mistmane placates. “We can talk about this. You just need to take a moment to breathe.” She smiles sweetly. It causes Sable’s heart to yearn. “She abuses Sable’s love for her to get closer.” “No! I will not let my feelings sway me. You won’t hurt me!” Sable cries. “Feelings? Sable, what do you mean by—” “You know what I mean!” Sabel snaps. “I don’t…” Mistmane studies Sable for a moment. Realization spreads across her features. She brings a hoof up as she gasps. “Sable, do you—?!” “Do not act naive! You’ve been toying with me!” “No! I didn’t know. If I’d known—” Mistmane stops. She turns away, her cheeks flushed. “Maybe it’s best we drop the discussion about the refugees for now and sort out the rift between us. Perhaps even…” her voice becomes meek, hesitant. She tucks a strand of mane behind her ear. “W-well, I wouldn’t mind discussing some possibilities. Privately?” Sable stops. A moment of clarity. “Alone? Just us?” “Yes.” She looks at Sable. Her expression is flustered, colour in her cheeks. “To talk about my… our feelings.” “She plans to kill Sable.” “... No, I won’t be fooled.” Sable’s voice hardens. “I’m not trying to fool you, Sable,” Mistmane says. She takes a step toward her. “I really do just want to talk. It doesn’t even have to be about your crush. I just want my best friend back.” Hesitation. Sable is swayed by her friend’s sincerity. She thinks that maybe the paranoia she feels is just a fabrication of the narrator. “Sable has had enough of this facade. She takes the knife hidden in her mane with her magic and stabs Mistmane.” “What?!” Sable cries. Mistmane takes a step back, startled. “Is it really that shocking that I consider you my best friend?” “No! No, it’s—” panic grips Sable’s voice. “Sable takes the knife in her magic and stabs Mistmane.” “I won’t do it!” Sable yells. “You can’t make me!” “What?” Concern tinges Mistmane’s voice. She moves closer as Sable backs away. “Sable, please, tell me what’s going on. I’m worried.” “Sable Takes the Knife and Stabs Mistmane.” “No!” Sable clutches her head, willing the voice to stop. It takes all of her will to keep her magic turned off. Mistmane stretches out a hoof toward her. “Stay back!” Sable shouts. “I just want to help,” Mistmane says. “Let me help.” “Use Your Magic.” “You are the last person that can help me! You need to stay away!” Sable cries. Tears flow from her eyes. “Take The Knife.” “Let me in, Sable,” Mistmane says soothingly. “You can trust me.” But you can’t trust me, Sable thinks to herself. “And Kill Her.” “Go away, Misty!” “Kill Her.” “Leave! Please!” “KILL. HER.” Sable screams. Cue. Turn on Spotlight. Focus on Mistmane and Sable. Turn off Stage Lights. Sable grabs the knife within her mane with her magic and stabs Mistmane through the heart. There is disbelief on Mistmane’s face. Blood spurts from the wound as the life slowly drains out of her. She looks at Sable. Shock morphs into a soft smile. She touches the side of her face with a hoof. She drops to the floor with a thump, knife still embedded in her chest. Sable looks down at her friend. She breathes raggedly. Panic consumes her mind. Shock forces her body to stay still. After a few moments, Sable sees the slow gasping breaths of Mistmane stop as she lays still on the floor. Mistmane is dead.