Fall of an Empire

by My Little Epona

Interlude I

“Those days in the Empire…

her sister saw an instance of what it was.

As a fleeting desire,

and not their true fire,

for the wedding bells’ ringing applause.~

And so she hoped

to stop things as they are.

But her failure to see

their true love, so deep,

would leave an unhealable scar.~”

“…Is that all?” A frown crosses the pony’s face as the bard falls silent, thought it’s a frown nopony can see. She keeps forgetting her face is obscured by the heavy hood.

Her frown is carried on in her voice, which falls heavily in the silence of the tavern. It seems as though Quick Strings can detect the hint of accusation in her voice as well, and he hurries to reassure her.

“There is much more to my tale.” He says. “But…as you may have noticed, it is quite late.”

The pony glances towards of the nearest window, and has to agree.

Though the time had already been late when the tale begun, nearly an hour has passed since then. In that short hour, the fire has died down, leaving naught but flickering embers in the hearth. The crowd has thinned drastically, leaving only a few stragglers left, all of whom are clustered around the pony’s table, listening to Quick Strings’ song.

The pony is amazed by how much the atmosphere changed, and by how deeply engrossed in the story she was, that she didn’t even notice.

“If I had to guess, the hour is near midnight, if not past.” Quick Strings continues. “Perhaps it is best if we continue this tomorrow?”

The pony heaves a sigh. She had hoped to hear the tale and be on her way, but…she sees the wisdom in the bard’s reasoning. A scraping sound fills the air as she pushes her chair back from the table.

“Very well.” She says. “I shall stay the night, and tomorrow we can continue. Do you agree?”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself!” Quick Strings beams at her, sweeping an exaggerated bow. “Till tomorrow, mystery mare!”

He then trots off, steps deceivingly perky, but the pony can see his hooves dragging every so slightly. She can tell, for certain, that at least he is tired, and a prickle of guilt runs over her spine for keeping him up so late.

The other ponies turn away, muttering amongst themselves, discussing the bard’s story. The pony listens to them for a second, then tunes them out, finding their conversation uninteresting.

“Well, I suppose that means you’d like a room?”

She jumps as a voice addresses her from across the room. She turns to the source of the voice, which ends up being the kind-faced mare, and gives a weary nod.

“Very well.” The matron gives her a warm smile. Follow me, hun.”

The pony willingly obeys, trotting after the mare.

That’s when she realizes just how tired she is.

An aching, bone-deep weariness has settled over her, as if heavy weight have been strapped to her limbs. She stumbles slightly, then shakes her head, biting her tongue to keep herself awake.

The mare leads her out of the tavern, onto a wide wooden staircase lined with flickering candles encased in glass bulbs. The stairs lead up, to a long, silent hallway lined with doors.

All of this the pony recognizes in the back of her mind, but she assigns no worth to her current observations. A majority of her focus is spent on moving forwards, putting one hoof in front of the other, all the way down the stretch of the thin, threadbare carpet.

“Here we are.” The mare’s voice is hushed, respectful of those sleeping around them. She pulls a ring of keys from her apron, unlocking the door before them, then hands the certain key to the pony. “Sleep tight.”

“Thank you.” The pony takes the key, forcing herself to stay upright. “Ms…?”

“Ladle.” The mare smiles at her. “Tin Ladle. Now you go have a nice rest.”

The pony nods thankfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind her.

She has no time to observe her surroundings—that is, other than the small bed tucked in the far left corner. She stumbles eagerly over to it, collapsing onto the soft mattress, not even bothering to remove her cloak.

Her weariness fully overcomes her, and soon she is in the hooves of the Lunar Princess.

---

The thing that first wakes the pony is the sunlight streaming through the window.

The thing that does next is the loud, high-pitched crow of a rooster.

She lets out a groan, rolling over in her bed. Her limbs are restricted by the edges of her cloak, which entangled itself with her legs during the night. Somehow, she manages to struggle upright, blinking blear-eyed at her surroundings.

The room is sparse, but somehow homey. A squat wooden table sits by the head of her bed, set with a single, unlit candle. The floor is of wood, worn smooth by the many hooves of the ponies before her. A brightly-colored rug decorates the center of the floor, made of what the pony guesses is braided wool.

A table borders the door, and a small bookcase sits next to that. The shelves are mostly empty, except for a few thin novels stacked on one side. The pony finds her wondering what they are about, and what it would be like if she could even read them…

Directly across the room sits an ill-fitting door, which is currently open. It reveals a tiny room beyond—the pony guesses it’s a washroom, judging by the mirror and basin currently visible. She catches a glimpse of herself in the streaky glass, and she bites back a shudder of repulsion. Her horn briefly flares with light, and the door slams closed.

The pony’s next move is to get out of bed—which she accomplishes with some difficulty, kicking her legs free of the cloak. She doesn’t bother to straighten her mane, but lifts the hood of her cloak over her head again, shadowing her face.

After making sure she is sufficiently hid, she trots out of the room, locking the door behind her.

The hallway is now flooded with light—natural light, streaming from large windows on either side. One other pony is trotting down the hall—a Pegasus, with ruffled wings and a disheveled mane, eyes staring blearily into the distance as he trots downstairs.

From below, the pony can hear a murmur of talk, as well as spoons clinking on bowls. The scent of cinnamon and honey floods into her nostrils, prompting her to leap forwards, trotting quickly down the stairs and into the tavern.

The room is once again filled with ponies, though not quite as many as the night before. The smell of cinnamon has only grown stronger, and now it’s accompanied by the sweet scent of fruit, as well as frying butter. The pony’s stomach gives a growl of anticipation.

“Morning, hun!” The pony turns to face the smiling Tin Ladle, who has a tray of crumb-streaked dishes balanced in her hoof.

“Hello, Ms. Ladle.” The pony smiles.

“Did you sleep well?” Tin says conversationally, collecting the dishes from a table without bothering to look. Once again, the pony has to marvel at her skill.

“Very well, thank you.” She says. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept so solidly.”

“Well, that’s high praise!” Tin beams at her. “And by the way, Quick Strings is up and waiting for you.”

She jerks her head towards the corner of the room, where the pony sat last night. True to her word, the yellow Earth Pony is sitting at the table, strumming his instrument with a thoughtful expression on his face. Through the background noise, the pony can faintly hear the twangy, lighthearted tune.

“He’s been waiting for quite some time.” Tin chuckles, wiping a wet cloth over the table she’s just cleared. “I reckon he’s pretty eager to continue his song—he’s never had such an avid listener as you. At least, no pony who would stay overnight to finish the story.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” the pony draws a coin purse out from beneath her cloak. “I believe I owe you now.” She offers the mare a jingling hoofful of bits, accompanied by a chip of crystal or two.

“Thank you kindly, hun.” Tin sets aside both tray and cloth temporarily, fishing her own wallet from a pocket in her apron. She adds the bits to the collection, then cinches the bag tight.

The pony replaces her own wallet, trying not to think about how limp it is.

Or how reluctant she is to part with those bits.

Money doesn’t come easily to her.

“I’d suggest going and taking a seat with Quick.” Tin nods towards the table. “And I’ll bring you breakfast in a jiffy. What would you like?”

“A bowl of oat mash.” The pony says, then quickly adds, “please.”

“You got it. Coming right up!” The mare takes up the tray again, trotting into the kitchen and disappearing. The pony heads towards the table.

Upon hearing her approaching hoofsteps, the bard spins around to face her, and the pony feels a twinge of amusement as his face lights up.

“Top of the morning to you, mystery mare!” He beams, giving a small bounce of excitement.

It’s clear his energy has returned in tenfold. It almost makes the pony exhausted.

“Good morning.” She greets. “How are you?”

“Never been better!” Quick Strings says, an uncontrolled grin on his face. “And you?”

“Well rested.” The pony says, taking a seat opposite the table from him. “Now, where did we leave off in your tale?”

I believe the princesses had just returned from the Empire.” The bard informs her. “Now, there—”

“Here you are.”

Quick Strings is interrupted by Tin Ladle, who sets a bowl down on the table. The pony beams in delight, taking up the spoon.

The oats themselves are a plain, dull gray color, but coupled with a thick layer of yellow cream, and sprinkled with liberal amounts of cinnamon sugar, it seems much more inviting.

“Now, you just call me if you need anything.” Tin says. “All right, Quick, get on with your story now! I imagine this poor pony doesn’t want to wait any longer than she has to.”

The pony gives a chuckle as an embarrassed blush forms on the bard’s face.

“I don’t take that long to tell a story.” He argues.

“Sure you don’t.” The mare chuckles. “Take care.” She trots away to care for the others.

“…Well, I’ll just continue now…” Quick Strings mutters, eyes following Tin Ladle. The pony bobs her head in agreement, placing a spoonful of sweetly-flavored porridge in her mouth. The bard clears his throat.

“And my tale continues…”

Author's Note:

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a like and comment if you did.^^
I'm really having a lot of fun with these characters! Sorry if this story seems to drag, but there's a lot of fluffy romance and slice of life to get through before we get to the whole "drama" and "sad" part. XD
I wanted to build up Luna's and Sombra's relationship before diving head-first into the pool of angst, so I'll spend a chapter or two doing that before the events of "Heavy is the Crown", which would INITIALLY be coming next. But my plotline for the next part is kind of a tangled mess, so I'll have to unravel THAT before I can move on. Don't worry, it won't take long!
In any case, thanks a ton for reading, and hope to see you in the next chapter! =3
Also, I want oatmeal now.

Comments

[CrustyKing]

Every time the parts of the song appear, i can't stop myself from singing along. Amazing work so far, can't wait for more!

[The Sound of Loneliness]

I keep finding punctuation mistakes, but... I suppose nobody cares about those except for us, philologists. I must say though, I envy your use of vocabulary. You always seem to know the correct word. Ah, the eternal problem of learning foreign languages. You can study a language your entire life, but you will always be humbled by the natives. *sigh*

The characters are really a joy, too. Your heroine, in particular, feels very familiar. I think I can guess pretty reliably the certain game horse she's based on.

[My Little Epona]

10118012
Thanks so much!!! I'm glad you're enjoying it.
10118128
I like to think that if there's a strong point in my stories, it's my use of words. Could you show me an example of where I got punctuation wrong? I'm always looking to improve, and it may help me later!

Your heroine, in particular, feels very familiar. I think I can guess pretty reliably the certain game horse she's based on.

How'd ya guess? I'm actually hoping to turn this into a series, and I will be doing a lot more fleshing out of her character in the next fic!

[The Sound of Loneliness]

10118484

“If I had to guess, the hour is near midnight, if not past.” Quick Strings continues.

Well, here's the most common one. If you intend to continue with "said," "told," "responded," "continued," etc. you gotta use coma at the end of the character's words. Because the constructs like "she said" are not separate sentences, but... kinda like an explanation for the previous part, you are telling your reader who said what and in which tone... if that makes any sense. Grammar gets surprisingly intricate when you start thinking about it.
Since you got an editor, if Breezy Shade didn't quit it already, you should just get them to proofread it for you. Correcting mistakes ain't entirely the writer's job. You are supposed to focus on, actually, writing.

[My Little Epona]

10118495
Aaaah got it! Okay, thanks a lot! I'll take that into mind.

[Frazzle2Dazzle]

The bard seems friendly. He’d make a great YouTuber.

[My Little Epona]

10144054
XD

[Ice Star]

Funny that you mention that chapter name. There is another Lunbra story with that as a name. It's right here.

[DawnOfsnow]

I actually like the pacing very much! It’s a great story so far.