Forging Harmony Arc 1; Creating the Elements

by SulliedInk

Scene 1 Act 3: Seule dans le Noir

The time was midnight. My ladies were curling my lavender mane, and scrubbing my pearl white fur coat. In the corner, the violinist played my favorite tune. He did not have much room to play though. I thought I should probably give him his own stand. A sharp pain shocked my foreleft hoof. One of my ladies botched my hooficure. She bagged to be excused. I gave her right, politely asking if she could fetch some wine from the vineyard.

I don't get it... Why is it so hard for everypony, including my servants, to pronounce my name? Seule; is that too hard? I decided I should go by the alias of Soul. At least that'll get those pesky serfs to pronounce my name correctly when their lord wanders their fields.

Mother and father aren't very proud of me, not because I didn't benefit our family name, which I did, but because I was a mare. It sounds funny, giving a female the title of lord. I knew from the age I could speak, that no matter what I accomplished, I would never truly be appreciated. They were too old when I was born, thus unable to give birth to another foal. Just passing on our land to me was a chore in itself. The neighboring nobles didn't consent with having a mare own the land. They believe I am weak. They believe I should stay inside, pampered by my servants, pulled away from the "real world".

While it is true I hated getting dirt on my hooves, it did not stop me from flaunting my riches before the others. Ever since I took over, our incomes have tripled. Since foalhood, I watched my parents govern our land. They were harsh, but not nearly enough. The villagers were slacking, sapping the money from our vault. I couldn't let this happen to me.

The day they proclaimed this land mine, I built a secret underground facility. Rumors in town kept circulating. They talked about how somepony refused to work, was lead to the manor so I may hear his complaints, and was never seen again. Soon, more and more of these "sudden disappearances" occurred. Families lost their loved ones, watching them fade away into mystery. I had them hooked. I had them in utter fear.

Finally, they were all excused. I wandered the halls of my own manor, admiring paintings of savage torture. A shiver of satisfaction slithered down my spine. I remember their names, and all their pains oh so crystal clear. This one was Lisa. She refused to work because her parents were sick. Oh how thrilling it was, watching her squeal and suffocate over the poison I dumped in her milk at diner.

I placed my hoof over another. His name was Omen. He complained the tools we provided were too rusty. His limbs lasted long on the table. He got his new tools at the price of his life. It was fun hearing him scream for help, begging for dear mercy.

I chuckled at the mere thoughts of what I had done. Pleasure always comes at a price. The clock stroke one o'clock. I was late for another gathering.

My servants were already outside. They readied the carriage, and just like that, we were off. We crossed the peaceful fields. Families gathered around us, begging for food and money. I guess "the chambers" will receive a few new guests this week.

There was a dress of fine silk stashed in a chest beneath my seat. I gently slipped it on, placed a crown of beads and jewels on my head, positioned my false eyelashes, clipped four golden slippers onto my hooves, ready for the gathering. I had to look perfect. My name does mean unique, right?

"No... You've got it all wrong..." I heard whilst walking up the marble steps. I turned around. My servants had already left, and in their place stood a cloaked equine. I didn't know who he was, or how he managed to slip past security.

What distasteful fashion you bear peasant! Please! Leave at once!" He stood there, looking at me. "Leave or I shall unleash the rage of a thousand guards upon your face!"

"Do you know what your name really means?" I shrugged. "What does a peasant like you know?!"

He removed his cloak. I gasped in terror. It was Jacques De la Fontaine, famous author and linguistic master. I always heard he dresses in rustic fashions, but had no idea he would show up here. If anyone knew what my name meant, it was him.

"Of course," I replied, hesitant. "It means unique, right?"

"I am afraid not mademoiselle. It is only one meaning. Une seule définition. Do you know what its literal meaning is, princesse de cette terre?"

I was afraid to ask. "N.... N.... No sir... I do not..."

"It means alone madame. I have bared witness to your acts before. Vos actions sont au-delà d'injuste; elles sont cruelles aussi!"

"Excuse me?"

"Your actions are beyond unjust; they're cruel too. I have heard all the rumors, and already questioned you servants before. Ils me reconnaissent trop bien maintenant."

"So?"

"Vous êtes cruelle madame. You are cruel indeed. The others aren't distant from you because you are a woman; they are distant because they are scared. Look at your kingdom! There is plague! There is famine! A swarm of rodents has devoured the villagers' food supplies! Ces rongeurs mangent mieux que votre peuple madame!"

I stood there, completely bewildered. I was being lectured by a foreigner, who seemed to know more about my kingdom than I did.

"The nobles are scared, and your people are hungry! Ask anypony else! They will surely tell you the same! If only they had the courage to do so..."

I did not say a word. I had no retort, no reply, nothing.

"You've repulsed everyone madame! That is why, I'm sure, you deserve your name. Seule, until you learn to change, I know for a fact that you will always be alone in the dark."