They call me a monster.
They think I cannot hear them, you know. They do their best to hide their fear when in my presence, of course, but down below, in the apparent privacy of their homes, they do not think to stifle their sobs or refrain from cursing my name. They wonder why I would be so cruel to my own subjects.
The fools do not see the threats right beneath their very muzzles, the enemies that surround us on all sides. They know not how close their fragile harmony is to being utterly annihilated, for they have not seen what I have seen with my own eyes.
They know not of the keening wails of the windigos that pace restlessly, ravenously, in the North, waiting for the slightest chance to envelop the Empire in their frigid hatred.
They know not of the covetous gaze of the Conqueror across the sea, lusting for the day that Equestria is caught within his grasping talons.
They know not of the ancient evil that slumbers deep within the earth – the dark presence that lies beneath the very castle itself, the sleeping nightmare that whispers in my dreams, whispers of the destruction of all things pure and good...
I must have strength. Strength of will to do not what is right, but what is necessary.
The ranks of my army must swell. Every crystal pony must be ready to fight – ready to kill – when the time comes that they must protect their Empire. Those who cannot fight must build up our fortifications, must toil until the Empire is impenetrable from any attack. Those useless to us – the infirm, the destitute, the vagabonds – must be purged from our nation, for they would only drag us down.
But should that not be enough to protect us? I must harness the power of the enemy for my own ends. The abomination dreaming beneath the castle is powerful enough to destroy us all with but an errant thought... Surely, it would not miss a little of that power. By dint of careful study – with crystal and steel, with spirals and right angles – I have learned ways to channel that dark power for my own purposes. It has corrupted my body, but I must take care that it does not corrupt my mind. I must have my wits about me if I am to protect my subjects...
The Princesses of Equestria do not approve of my methods. But I cannot afford the luxury that Celestia does, to be praised instead of cursed, loved instead of feared. Surely the Princesses are wise enough to realize that if my kingdom falls, theirs will soon follow. My subjects suffer only so that theirs do not.
I must have strength.
And if that makes me a monster? If my soul is the price I pay for the security of my Empire, and of all of Equestria...
Well, I suppose I can live with that.