Ponywatching

by ThunderTempest

Prompt #149: Revelations

The building was a temple, of sorts. It was hardly the centre of an organized religion, but yet ponies flocked to its open doors as fireflies gathered around a fire. They entered world-weary and tired, seeking salvation, an escape and it was here that they found it. For some, it was a place to remember, for others a place to forget. Yet all who entered the door re emerged changed, reinvigorated, unburdened by the problems of society, and able to ignore their personal problems for a while, as they rode the euphoric high that came with their worship. But perhaps most importantly, it was a place to meet old friends, or find new ones. A place where ponies could gather, ponies who had heard the same siren song in their hearts, calling out to them, no matter the distance. To some, visiting this building, this temple was a weekly event. To others, it was barely once a month, only worth visiting when they needed reaffirmation. To others still, it was a pilgrimage, a journey of both body and soul, and it was treated with all the respect that it may or may not have deserved.

But like any good temple, it could not exist as the place it was without a dedicated group of ponies who kept it running. It had its servants and priests, caretakers and preachers, and yet none of them claimed to be the absolute lord and master of it, just as none of them could claim to know absolutely what was worshipped within its walls. Rather, each took their turn in leading the ponies who came to worship, and the ponies who kept the temple running all had different ideas, and these were celebrated. Different interpretations, re-imaginings and almost but not quite plagiarized copies were all given equal weight under its roof. The central pulpit had seen bland retellings and false truths just as often as it had inspired creative brilliance or the rare stroke of sheer, outright genius.

The air in the temple was heavy with a weight few could identify-some veteran preachers could ignore it, but everypony who presented their works there could feel it; an undeniable sense of always being on the cusp of something great. A sense that if everything went right, life would improve, and with good reason. Trends had been born here. The right idea, at the right time could spark a revolution. Yet, the atmosphere was heavy with failure too; just as many, if not more, great ideas had died here, stripped of their wings before they could even take flight, and there was wisdom to be found in the stories of failure in the temple. In here, the new replaced the old, as each generation replaces the previous, a lesson in the eternal march of time. In here, the old sometimes eclipsed the new, proving that there were things to be learned from history. In here, old and new mixed, and a harmony was reached.

****

Hooves pumped, lights flashed and ponies moved in a singular, rhythmic cadence. At her altar, Vinyl Scratch wove a tale of creation and rebirth, the bass and drums beating with the heart of the world, reverberating around the Temple of Sound and into the hearts and minds of her following. As Vinyl’s ear ticked back and forth in perfect time, her hooves and magic danced across her board, as if possessed by some ancient spirit in her own worship of the glory of music.

This was her temple. This was her congregation. This was her religion.

And right here, right now, Vinyl Scratch was their god, and she had only one commandment:

Thou Shalt Dance.

Author's Note:

Written for Prompt #149: "Higher Harmony"
The Prompt: Ponies attend a religious service.

I kind of like this one.

Comments

[Themaskedferret]

Very nifty idea.