Prologue
“And on this day we weep, because The Prince was not just our leader. He was our friend, our saviour, and one of the best ponies in this wasteland.” As the pony stepped down from the stage, another took his place.
“If there is anypony else who wishes to speak, please make a line and do so now.” As he stepped down from the stage, another pony stepped up from a very long line.
“ I remember a few years ago, when I had just lost my home my family and my business to raiders. The Prince asked me if I wanted to continue. And I decided then and there that I would continue. That I would not lie down and die and let the memory of my family, of what happened become nothing more that the memories of a dead stallion on the side of the road.” The Pony paused to take a breath, and continued “ So I told him I did, more than anything, I did. I wanted to go on, and help make sure that this never happened to anypony else, ever again. When I told him, The Prince just looked at me for a minute, as if he staring into my soul to see if my conviction was firm. Then he told me to follow him, and I did. The pony paused again here, and took a drink out of the nearby water trough before continuing.
Nearby, there was a large building with a sign outside that said clearly “The Royals”. On the top floor of the building, a slightly older mare looked out the window at the proceedings below.
“What’s happening out there Sight?” A voice said behind her.
“They’ve started talking about how great he was.” she replied, an obvious smirk in her tone.
“Oh, god if only he was alive for this, we wouldn’t have gotten him off the stage for days.” Another said.
"Remember that time he saved that one town?” asked one of the many ponies in the room.
"Which one?”
“Oh, right, um about like 5 years ago? Small town radioactive river, radioactive river monster?”
“Ah, that one. Yea what about it?”
“When sight here dragged him away from his adoring fans in the town, it looked physically painful for him.”
The room shared a laugh then, but it was a sad laugh, the kind of laugh that comes out when you’re trying so very hard not to cry.
“...He really was a great guy wasn’t he?” The stallion who had originally spoken said to no-one in particular.
The room was quiet for a moment then. Then Sight walked over to the front of the room.
“Alright, That’s enough stroking his ego. I swear, if he saw you right now, you know what he’d say? I think you do, he’d tell you to laugh. Enjoy your life, because you’ve got no idea how much time’s left in it. Now, we’d better get down to the reason why we’re all here in his office.” Those of the room who were otherwise occupied during her speech focused their attention on her now. “We all received a letter from The Prince. He said that he had chosen us because we were the ones he trusted most in the world. He said that we would learn something here, something that we should pass on to the rest of the world, and we were the ones he wanted to do it.” She took a deep breath “ Now, unless anypony has any objections, I will say the codeword that was in my letter.” She looked around the room to see if anypony had something to say. They didn’t. “ Alright then. Activate Playback Protocol: Project Vanity.”
All of the lights in the room immediately dimmed. There was a whirring noise from the desk at the head of the office. The top of said desk split open then, and revealing a small disk shaped object. It immediately came to life glowing a soft blue. Then a semi-transparent image of The Prince appeared before the gathered ponies.
The prince looked a bit younger in the hologram than he did in real life. Though the hologram was a uniform blue, The assembled ponies were able to let their imaginations fill in the colors. The Prince was a strong looking stallion of average height. In the hologram he had close-cropped short blond hair, not styled in any way at all. It seemed that the image for the hologram had been made when The Prince was not looking his best. The fact that he would show himself to them this way was a shock to the assembled ponies. It had always been a wonder to them all as to how he kept his mane so clean and how he kept it styled, even though he never had any products, or anything else to keep his mane looking so nice. The current theory was that He used a spell or charm of some sort to do so. He had never told them, and they had never found out. So the fact that he should appear before them as he did now only solidified their feeling that he had something very important to say indeed.
His coat was a pristine white. Yet another mystery for the ages to the assembled. His fur was always clean, but there was no hiding the scars. And yet, it seemed that he had never tried to in the first place. He seemed proud of his scars, as if they were just more proof of how truly amazing he was. For a pony so bent on his appearance, The fact that he would wear these scars so proudly may seem odd, but that was just the way he was. One big contradiction. The most conceited pony in the wasteland, and yet he was also one of the most selfless.
And then he spoke.
“ Hello, my friends. If you are hearing this, then I have died and you all opened the letters I gave you. I would just like you to know that what I am about to say, I would much rather have told you myself. This means that I died unexpectedly. Which was of course, expected by me. What I am about to tell you is my story. My whole story. You are going to hear of my thought, my doubts, my insecurities, and my flaws. You are going to learn things about me that will perhaps ruin my carefully crafted image in your mind. But that is why I chose you, my closest of friends. Some of you already have cracks in the image, and for those who don’t, well I don’t believe you’ll need it anymore. What i’m about to tell you, I want you to in turn tell others. And I don’t want you to tell the story of the dashing handsome knight who rode in to save the princess and slay the dragon and came out unscathed and smiling. I want you to tell the story of the dashing knight who wasn’t always good, the knight who had done terrible things, and who had been repaid for those terrible things, and who tried anyway. The knight whose armor cracked, and his sword broke, and yet he carried on, and he always smiled, and tried to be happy so that those around him could be. Ladies and Gentlestallions, I am well aware that none of you know my true name. Not openly anyway. Some of you may have guessed, and though whether you kept it to yourselves out of courtesy, or a fear that you were insane, I thank you either way. My friends I am going to tell you my story. The story of how I came to be who I am, and the story of who I once was. I am going to tell you the story of The Prince, formerly known as Prince Blueblood.