Divide

by I Am The Night

Divide

Author's Note:

I wrote this story way back in January 2016/2017, and I thought it was a cool little story to write, something to get me back into writing.

I held it off for an entire year before publishing it. Suddenly, I'm getting downvoted left and right and saying it was done in extremely poor taste.

Apparently, according to some PMs, people thought I made this in response to the Parkland High shooting that happened just a week before I published it. I didn't. Not only does it have nothing to do with a school shooting or bear any resemblance to the shooting in any sense of it, I wrote the story 13 months before the shooting even happened.

People have also said that I wrote it as political bias. I didn't. Trump's mentioned death was written up on a whim in the span of two seconds. Also, I wrote it long before he won the election.

It's not meant to be this empowering change or a message of fighting oppression. It's literally a story about a talking horse being killed. That's it.

I never wrote it to be in the poor taste people claimed it to be, and I never planned to write it in poor taste. Writing about one of the worst shootings since Columbine in the style of MLP is not only poor taste, but it's downright disrespectful as all hell, even trying to compare this story to that.

It's stuff like that at times that makes me question any potential story idea I could have that has a violent theme to it if people try to connect it to something completely unrelated.

So please just remember: This is NOT, and never was, a response to Parkland. I wrote this for fun, no matter how shitty or poor you think it was written, and so I'm re-uploading it for those who would like to read it.

DIVIDE

The day was meant to be special.

It was meant to be an important moment for every single one of us. No matter how opinionated, no matter how unequal, no matter how hated we become towards each other, we all loved this day for some reason.

No matter how even divided we were.

---

The Pub was popular in Canterlot. Every of-age pony and human went there to havea drink and a conversation, with friends or strangers. No one was an exception.

I was not one.

I sat myself down at a table and ordered a pint. But I wasn't here for a fancy conversation or to join the party and celebrate.

That was not my job.

I had no idea who the commissioner I was meeting with was, or whether or not they were my race or theirs. But the only knowledge I had was of my target. My work had been a long secret to the public for years. They ranged from small targets - mayors and governors - to senators and potential presidential candidates. The higher they were, the riskier it was.

But at the same time, the bigger the payout.

What would the cost be to kill a princess?

As my drink arrived, the news began on the television. Breaking, they considered it.

A female human and a male pony look to the camera.

"Good afternoon, I'm Martha Davis-..."

"And I'm Obsidian Flint."

Strange how we all got used to their names in such a short time.

Flint continued for a brief moment. "Today is a historic day for both kinds, one of both celebration and integrity."

"That's right, Flint," Martha took over. "Today marks five years since the union between humankind and ponykind, a union that occurred right here on Earth, formed between current regal Princess Celestia Faust, and former United States President Donald Trump - a union that we were all... genuinely surprised was able to happen."

Flint laughed. I had to chuckle at it too. Donald never seemed the type to negotiate peacefully. All the way to the end.

"While the Union had occurred in Washington, D.C. between both leaders, today will mark the first time since the Union that the United States president will be stepping through the Dimensional Portal, and into Equestria."

"President Fieger is expected to arrive in Canterlot sometime within the next hour. Both parties will meet and deliver their own separate speeches of appreciation, as well as a proposal to increase both parties' relations in the coming months. We'll be sure to go live when the president arrives."

That was when they went on to other topics of the day or the week - shit I could hardly care to listen to. I drowned it out with the sound of the bar itself. And as I did - my client arrived.

As I only somewhat expected, the client wasn't human. He walked over to me on all fours and a set of wings, but he also appeared to be wearing the average Canterlot attire, seemingly to better blend in.

Not that anyone around would be likely to notice or care in this city.

He sits down in the seat opposite me and asks, "Are you the one?"

To me, it was no more than a simple British accented voice. Didn't know what it was called to them. It didn't matter.

"Yeah," I answered him.

Within a moment, he handed - in his case, hoofed - me a piece of paper. Looking at it intently, it appeared to be a rather detailed map of what seemed to be the main castle, as well as a few of the buildings nearby. One of them was circled.

"That's the Genesis Library - third tallest in Canterlot."

Clever. After years of this, the smartest method was to always pick a shorter post. The tallest one would give you away quickly.

I flipped a page to see some of the other drawings; instead, it was a photograph of the building itself, though zoomed into one of the higher floors. One of the floors seemed to be circled.

He explained again, "Thirteenth floor. It's not too high, and not too low. Has a clear shot to the podium."

I looked up at the television. Footage in the bottom-right corner showed the podium itself, with nobody and nopony but staff readying their arrival. The library was visible in the distance, though the floor was out of view. At the time of the meeting, the side would be shaded, at least enough to prevent me from being exposed straight away. It was perfect.

"How much are you paying me for this?" I asked him. "You expect me to do the job, and I'll do it. But first, I need to see you're willing to pay."

"Under the photos, friend."

I eyed the photos and moved them away, revealing a piece of paper: a map with four numbers.

"What's this?"

"The location of the safe where your money is stored. Right there is the code. You follow those directions, put the code in, and the money is yours. Look at my eyes. You know I'm telling the truth, right? Otherwise, I wouldn't have given that to you."

I looked into his eyes. He was definitely telling the truth. Even with the doubt that lingered in my mind over every client I've met, I've been able to trust every single one of them. Even a liar who's good at lying will seep through the cracks.

Not a single crack on this guy.

"You're truthful," I said simply. "The Genesis Library, two o'clock. I'll be there and the job will be done."

"Righto. I should let you get ready, then."

"One more question." I asked every client this. "Why Princess Celestia?"

At first, the client was silent, moving slowly but not speaking. He was thinking of the words to say. It was always difficult for anyone to explain, even if they wanted it done.

Finally, he spoke. "The princess has committed acts of treason against this country. From simple forgeries to unethical executions, she has dictated her way into the world, dictated Equestria to succession... and nopony has a damn idea it's even a thing. Very few believe it until they see it."

"Is there proof of this?"

"In the safe. It has everything you will need afterwards. There is no reason for me to hire someone without them knowing."

"Good answer."

"Well then," he sighed, "I should leave you be. I know you will make the right decision."

"I don't get paid to make right decisions. I get paid to make decisions."

"Right."

The client got up from the seat and left the bar. No one batted an eye at either of us. With a breath, I finished my drink and ordered another one.

Casualness is the only handle.

---

One fifty-five. The ceremony would start in five minutes. During this time of day, the library was typically open. However, on this day, it was closed to celebrate the union. There was no human and no pony around. The lights were off, even the elevators.

The walk up to the thirteenth floor was tedious and slow. By the time I got up there, there were cheers erupting from the outside, not for the princess, but for the president of the United States, Geoffrey Fieger. He ran in twenty-twenty and won hands—and hooves—down. His Equestrian motorcade arrived at his podium.

The cheers continued until they were quietly died down. As he spoke, I unpacked my briefcase and pulled out my weapon: an M-40 long-range sniper rifle. It could hit a target from twenty miles away.

Also reaching into the case, I pulled out a spot of blue elixir. It was an illegal substance, outlawed two years ago. Perfect accuracy, perfect timing. Perfect. If it was a political leader of this size, I always had this on hand.

I wouldn't be here today if I didn't.

"... the peace that formed between these two great worlds, from two distinct leaders." I could hear it in his voice—he said 'distinct' very broadly. "Though we may be different in size and race and color, together we are all the same in flesh and blood."

The crowd cheered, clapping hands and stomping hooves. A moment later, the cheering increased as Fieger welcomed her majesty herself: Princess Celestia. The alicorn, as they were called, stood elegantly at her own podium as the crowd cheered her name.

"Celestia! Celestia! Celestia!"

She smiled and waved them, quickly quieting them down.

"Welcome," she began, "each and every one of you. I know that today is a monumentally, historic day for all of us. Today is the day that we choose to set aside our differences, our beliefs, our cultures—and today is the day that we unite as one people, united and tall. Freedom for all."

They cheered again, and the regal princess smiled. I had her in my scope, my finger teetering on the trigger. I waited to pull it, waited to fire. "Not yet."

"And so, to show our support of the Earth and the human race, I would like all of you to stand up, and join me and President Fieger in the United Anthem."

The United Anthem—they created it after the union was in place. Trump had little involvement in it. Celestia, she knew where her heart was. At first, I hesitated. But I remembered...

"Acts of treason ... forgeries to executions ... dictated her way into the world..."

My clients never lied.

O' Glory and stride, the angels that be

They sing for our destiny across the sea

Through blight is our light, we embrace it with glee

United we stand, united we see

I could feel my heart beating fast. My palms, they hardly ever sweat. I could feel the lump in my throat going down. Celestia sang with a smile on her face as she looked over the crowd of humanity and ponykind singing together. Her smile—it was genuine.

"Acts of treason ... forgeries to executions ... dictated her way into the world..."

We stand for our sisters, our brothers, our mothers,

We carry them to glory, we fit them with stride

Our light shines through the blight, and now we can be,

United we stand, united we see—!

They cheered her name again. Then they cheered Fieger's name. Then I pulled the trigger.

In an instant, Celestia's body fell to the ground, blood pooling around her body. As soon as everyone was aware, cheers became screams and cries. Everyone went into a panic, a flurry of chaos. Secret service members and royal guards looked around, trying to find the perpetrator.

The elixir kicked in, and I was hidden in plain sight. I packed up my rifle and left the room, my job almost done. As I walked down the stairs and made it for the door, the front entrance kicked open. I simply stood to the side and let them pass. They didn't see me. Guards with spears and guns marched up the stairs, but they were never successful.

I left the building and walked down the street. I ducked into an alley as the elixir wore off, before marching off into the street. The further down I went, the more that folks were oblivious to what was going on. Soldiers and service members walked around the street, redirecting people elsewhere.

"What's going on?" a pony asked.

"There's been a shooting. Princess Celestia is dead."

Panic was abundant. As soon as I was far enough away from the crowds, I looked at the slip of paper that the client gave to me. I followed the directions for a few minutes before it led me down to an alleyway.

As expected, the safe was there, behind trash to conceal it. I put in the code as it said, and with a click, the door opened.

Two million dollars stacked up, easily convertible if needed. Beside that, a set of photos. I looked at them with great intent.

Celestia watching and laughing as a griffon was waterboarded by a group of ponies. Another photo, showing her ordering the executions of two pony spies, their bodies visible in the next photo. Celestia overlooking starved dragons inside a small cell, then watching coroners dig into their corpses after they finally died.

War plans, diagrams of hidden labor camps, war photos. It was real. All of it. And nopony in Equestria had any clue it had happened except for those who didn't survive.

Clients always gave me photos. I never kept them. They were evidence of my crime. Today would've been a momentous occasion to oust her, even in death. But it would not be worth what would come after. I filled a nearby barrel with trash and set it alight. The photographs burned quickly.

I walked home with the money. The night was filled with sorrow.

"Today, Equestria and Earth mourn the sudden death of Princess Celestia Faust. What was supposed to be a day of unity and harmony became a tragic and bitter end, as the regal leader was assassinated by an unknown assailant. Princess Celestia was loved and respected by all for her efforts to unify our worlds together. This is a tragic day for all."

Loved and respected. Right.

Comments

[WonderboltWing]

Woah. That was cool.

Good job!

[Endless Nightmares]

I'd be really careful about stuff like this, mentioning the death (even a fake one in an attempt at humor or otherwise) of a political figure is sure to draw some very unwanted attention, especially after the events of the recent tragedy in Florida. I strongly recommend removing or altering that.

[Whinifree]

There’s two major things here that I feel needs to be said.

1. This reads like it was written for the sole purpose of killing off Celestia because reasons.

2. With what little context we’re given, the reference to the actual current Pres. of the US almost suggests he was offed in a similar fashion to Celestia. I’m getting some heavy personal bias vibes from this story.

[Starlight Nova]

What's Pixlr?

[Golden Flare]

After seeing the like/dislike ratio and the comments, I can see that this story has received mixed results, I liked it though, after all, we don't know what Celestia does offscreen in the show

[The Bricklayer]

Dude, one word. Timing.

[I Am The Night]

8739574
This was honestly going to be a much longer story, with more plot to it and character development. I plan on getting rid of this story anyway. :)

[I Am The Night]

8739574

1. The story, at the time I wrote it, was meant to be its own depiction of humans and ponies living together. Not everybody gets along, and if you get the right person, it won't end well. This story was meant to be a lot longer, but I held it off for a full year before I published it.

2. The mention of Trump was brought up on a whim in the span of two seconds, but I mentioned him in the same way I'd mention any other president. If Obama was still in office, I would've said his name, or Bush, depending on the date set in the story. I felt like adding some mention of a sitting president would give people an indication of the date. It wasn't meant to be political bias at all.

[I Am The Night]

8739566

As tragic as the Parkland incident was, we can't let an incident prevent people from writing or coming up with something that has violence related to a gun going off or somebody dying. It wouldn't be fair to make everybody not make dramatic or violent stories for several days because there was a shooting somewhere. As insensitive as that sounds, it's just how I see it. It'd be like holding off on making anything with an explosion in it because 9/11 happened. It wouldn't be fair to compare the two.

Plus, this story was written over a year before Parkland.

Plus, I doubt me mentioning the assassination of a talking pony princess will gain the attention of the US government, if that's what you meant? The story was written to be fun and simple, not political bias or in response to a high school shooting.

That's just my two cents on this whole debacle.