• Published 25th Jun 2014
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I Am Her Servant - Arreis Of Avalon

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My Duty In Death

Dong. Dong. Dong.

Canterlot bells rang that day. I had grown used to them in the time I spent there. They became part of my daily life, simply a reminder of the time. It was nothing special – But today those chimes meant something more. They meant I had served my time. I had fulfilled my purpose.

Today is the day that I die.

The rope around my waist was anything but comfortable. It was in place to restrain me. Spells were cast on me so as to block my magic. I had to think to myself what a wonder my race was – Despite spells to control my magic, I retained my disguise. Changeling ‘magic’ is not magic at all. It is our way of life – These costumes are a part of us.

“Queen Chrysalis of the Changelings, Ruler of the Bad Lands,” the voice above said. Her voice was powerful, yet had some signs of kindness in them. She was soft, yet strong. I glance up to see Princess Celestia, the princess my Queen fought against. She looked sickly around the edges, but had otherwise recovered.

“You have committed acts of treason to Equestria, and have harmed my subjects. This is a crime I cannot allow, and you must be punished.” Celestia looked down at the queen. “Yet, this form of punishment is one I wish to avoid with all my heart. You have requested beheading, despite my offers of sanctuary in Canterlot prisons. Please, I ask you, reconsider this action.”

I look straight up to Celestia. She is regal, yet kind. She is not feared by her people – She is loved. It is a bizarre concept to me. Yet, I can understand love for your ruler. I have had it all my life, after all. A different kind of love. A personal warmth that fills my heart as I think of her, safe, able to feed my race at least another decade with what we can find. Without me, she would be the one standing here.

And I have no doubt how she would respond to the princess.

“If it’s all the same to you, Celestia,” I say, looking her straight in the eyes as I do, “I would never belittle myself to being trapped in your dungeons like a meager prisoner. You captured me, and I shall die by your hoof. It is as it has always been for my kind, and you would make a grave mistake to keep me locked away like a trophy.”

“Please, Chrysalis, we can negotia-“

“I wish not for petty negotiations. The Changeling empire will live long without me – For I know we can withstand the might of the Equestrian empire. We can stand strong on what remains.”

Celestia watched one moment longer. There was only silence in the square as the few ponies gathered to watch waited to see what would happen. I kept my gaze on the Princess. On my face was a small, half noticed smile. Celestia nodded softly, defeatedly. She detested this sort of thing, I could tell.

“Very well, Chrysalis. You have chosen your demise. But at your own hoof be it.” She turned her back. I have the faint idea that she does not enjoy death, even of her enemies. I find that strange, yet fitting for the pony race.

The ropes feel tighter now – Perhaps it’s simply my imagination. The royal guard walks up next to me, and I can sense beneath his skin disgust. I cannot tell if it is centered on me, or on the act he is about to commit.

It does not matter in the end, I suppose. We all die some day.

I close my eyes, sighing softly. I smile as I remember My Queen. My love. My Chrysalis. She can still warm my heart, even now on the execution block. I am full of love as I know I have saved her life, and furthermore, how she brightened mine. Nothing can change that – Not even death.

I hear the guard raise his scythe. I open my eyes once more, watching the crowd. Some are disgusted, ready to leave already. Some look grimly happy to see the Changeling scum die. But only one, I see, is crying at my imminent demise. A grey stallion, with goggles and a scarf has decided to watch. She decided to stay until the end.

Till death do us part. That’s the saying, right?

I smile. She came to say goodbye. I close my eyes, feeling tears of joy rolling down my face. The scythe comes down, and I can hear the whistle of the air as it decends.

“Goodbye, my lo-“

Slash.

Joyous tears linger on the execution block as regretful, sorrowful, bitter tears fall from the true queen’s eyes.

The job is done. The ponies leave. The body is cleared away with the blood. The true queen simply stands, sobbing at the block, knowing it was her place. She should have been the one to die. He should still be alive.

What she would only give to have him back.

“Goodbye,” she whispered to herself. “Goodbye, my… my love.”