Dishonored: Revenge is magicby Inspector GadgetChaptersThe Tales of Canterlot Chapter I "Rise"The Tales of Canterlot Chapter II "The weeping foal"The Tales of Canterlot Chapter III "A madpony's dreams"The Tales of Canterlot Chapter I "Rise"Rosethorn was a young unicorn who had dedicated his life to science. He believed that the future relied on knowledge and progress, and that he could change the world with his research. He had gone to the Equestrian academy of science outside of Manehatten, where he studied engineering. He came up with the wildest theories and ideas. His machines and contraptions could change the world. Or at least that’s what he thought. His research had long been rejected and his ideas were washed away by the harsh words of professors and scientists, not just in Equestria, but all over the world. They said that his ideas were ludicrous and childish, and no one would ever back him in a project that was doomed from the beginning. Even with all his scientific research to back them up, no experiment, no data, no calculations, no matter how sound they were, could convince them that this was more than just a foal’s dream. He was enraged by their incompetence to see all this potential go to waste. Indeed he was brilliant, but he had never learned that potential and knowledge alone wasn’t enough to lead to progress. Some ponies would even face him with this fact, but he was too stubborn to accept it. This anger towards the scientific community filled him for years until he finally snapped. He let out all his rage like the air would leave a bursting balloon, except this time it ended with a pony’s teeth, laying on the ground in a side alley. He was released after four months in a prison, and by that time he was broken. He had no money, no home, and no friends to help through this tragedy. He was more alone than he could’ve ever imagined. He was no longer the brilliant scientist, filled with enthusiasm to the bristling point. All that was left was a depressing excuse of a pony you could only look down on. So he did the last thing he could think of. He gathered all the money he had left and used them on a train ticket to Canterlot. Although the City was reserved for the wealthy, known to be selfish and disgusted by the poor, it was still a nicer place to live on the streets. They were cleaner, and their was more help to gain. It was not a place for a scientist like him, but it was his last hope. Upon his arrival he was, despite his expectations, greeted well and in compassion. These were ponies who had lived through the same as he and only saw themselves in him. He was welcomed among their group and was looked to as an equal who deserved as much love and care as anypony else. And this made him cry in joy like he had never done before. After a month in his new home in the streets, he had come across an interesting custom. The poor would gather and collect the gems the rich use to decorate their clothing and furniture. They could be found anywhere. From the trashcans, the sides of the streets, or even floating up from the river. They would smash them with stones or other heavy objects until they were nothing but shards. They would throw them on a dimly lit fire and they would burst out in magnificent flames. They were more luminous than normal flames and would provide more heat and it took hours for them to burn out. It burned better than any of the best wood or coal anypony could provide. Especially the magic gems, which would burn for several days, so they were used only in the winter when it was needed. This was a normal custom among the poor in the city. But Rosethorn saw something completely different. While he had grown accustomed to the homeless life, he was still a genius who couldn’t be denied. Although he studied to be an engineer, he still knew a great deal about chemistry, and anyone with as much knowledge on the subject as he had would be standing in awe at the sight in front of him. He saw an energy source incomparable to any known fossil fuel. A normal gem could provide as much energy as any of the rare magical gems. The magical gems, if used in the same way, would produce many times the energy they would normally provide.The gems were much more energy rich than anypony thought them to be. They were common among the rich and middle class ponies, so none of them saw their potential, and the homeless ponies did not have the expertise. But he did. A moment of sudden clarity washed over him. Something that many ponies don’t get in their entire lifetime. Rosethorn looked at this discovery and realised that he did it in a side alley rather than in a high-tech lab with state-of-the-art equipment. He looked back at his old self, the enthusiastic academy student who dreamt about making the next scientific breakthrough. He looked back at the ponies, griffons, zebras, all races that were present in the scientific community. All those who laughed at him and called him a foal... and realised they were right. All his life he had been searching in vain, wasting his time with ridiculous ideas. He realised that all his life's work had been a waste. And that brought a smile to his face. Within years he became one of the most highly respected ponies in all of Equestria. His discovery brought the whole world into a new era of technology. Many ideas that were once dismissed and seen as ludicrous were now possible and many young scientist were given the chance that Rosethorn never had. As technology grew exponentially, the city of Canterlot grew with it. Every month the population doubled and Canterlot was no longer just the capital of Equestria but also the main seat of the scientific community and the centre of the world economy. He was meet by the princesses themselves as well as the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. He was appointed to lead the ministry of science and worked as one of Celestia’s personal advisors. Both the poor and the rich got wealthier in all the lands. The world was thrown into a golden age. That was at least what everyone thought. While gems were common in equestria and it’s neighbours, there were others who lacked them. In the far east, the Tartarus Union, home for the minotaures and many other races, was sparse on these resources. They lacked behind everyone else in economy and were soon outmatched, leading them into a financial crisis. Civil war plagued the east and their land was devastated. The minotaures blamed Celestia and Luna for this tragedy and demanded that they were given enough gems to rebuild their land. The princesses tried to help them, but even with their quantity of gems, they couldn’t provide them with enough to meet the minotaures’ terms. This lead to a great tension between the two lands. Equestria was backed by Grifferia, who also held a big part of gem resources. Griffon scientists developed weapons based on the new technology and provided weapons to their own military, as well as Equestria’s, who were waiting for the inevitable. After years of tension and political struggles it happened. War broke out. Although the minotaurs had a worse quality of weaponry, they gained that strength in sheer quantity. The battles were harsh. Many soldiers were killed and many cities were laid barren. The minotaurs were gaining the upper hand, Grifferia was being destroyed. The greatest cities of Equestria were conquered. But the ponies were still putting up a fight. While the minotaures were advancing, they also felt the greatest loss of soldiers. Counter attacks became more devastating. The advancement slowed down. It was a tie. Nobody knew what would happen. Both were preparing for the greatest battle in this war. The battle that would determine the fate of the world. The siege on Canterlot. ... ... ... But what did that matter? No matter who would win, there would still be death and suffering among both sides. There would still be houses that were levelled to the ground, leaving thousands homeless. Pain that would’ve never happened without his discovery. He would be known in the history books, not as the pony who brought forward a golden age, but the pony who caused a devastating world war. This is what Rosethorn was thinking at the moment. He was looking down from his balcony on Canterlot castle, looking at the canons raining fire over the city. Canons that wouldn’t be build if it wasn’t for him. He looked at the ponies who fled from the burning houses that were once their homes. A tear rolled down his cheek as he trotted inside his room. The guards were expecting to find Rosethorn in his room with packed bags, ready for the evacuation. What met them instead was the sight of a pony in a pool of blood and a bullet in his skull. It came from a newly invented pistol, shipped over from Grifferia. He had left the world with a recording device on his desk. One just needed to hit play: “Rosethorn Journal. 5th in the month of seeds, year 1007. It really is strange all of this... How life can change I mean... I’ve been everything from a homeless bum to princess Celestia's personal adviser. I’ve seen the golden age I made possible. I’ve lived in the greatest city on the planet, molded by my hooves... which is now being destroyed by those same hooves... *sigh* ...but I realised that all the way through, I was just a scientist. A pony who explored the nature of the world, in the name of progress...*chuckle*... It’s a fun thing with progress... It can take one to sublime heights... or drown one in devouring depths... and sometimes those two things are exactly the same... that’s a lesson you don’t learn at the science academy... but I learned it too well...End log” The Tales of Canterlot Chapter II "The weeping foal"Once their was a young filly who knew only fear and loneliness. She lived off scavenging in the still-smoking rubble of a once great city. She didn’t remember it back then though. At the time, she was just a foal. She lost her parents during the siege. The only thing she could remember is the face of her mother and her soft, calming voice. She remembered how she could put one to sleep with her lullabies, no matter how sad or scared they were. The memory was the only light she had left in her world. But that was all it was. A memory. She had heard stories of the city before. It was the capital of Equestria and the centre of the world economy and science. A golden age where everyone was happy. A time where the princesses were kind and helped those few who needed it. And every day it still grew better and better... Until the war started. But it was nothing to her. They were just stories. Economy, science, war, kindness. She had heard the words, but she didn’t know what they meant. Even a name like Equestria had no meaning to her. Fancy words that only the princesses would use, princesses she barely knew anything about. She would mostly go down to the river. It was the place where it was easiest to find food like mushrooms and grass. Water was hardly a problem as you could imagine. From the river, she had a good view of the castle. She always tried to imagine it without the many destroyed walls and roofs and with whole windows. She tried to imagine the destroyed towers that laid as rubble at the root of the mountain, as if they still towered high up in the air, overlooking the city. It never succeeded for her though, no matter how hard she tried. Too bad. If they were whole, someone up their might see her and help her, but that was a hope she had abandoned long ago. The only problem with living by the river is that it was crowded. Most buildings were taken by other homeless. Because of the scarce food and shelter, they would push her away so they wouldn’t have to share. During the night, she retreated deeper into the city where there were more abandoned buildings. Here it was easier to find shelter for the night. She couldn’t find much wood in a city, built up mostly by stone, and she was too weak to smash the few gemstones she could find. Heat in the night was a luxury. Even by the river it was still hard to find food. Sometimes she would find money or other valuables in the rubble. She mostly used it to buy food from other scavengers. Most of the time she didn’t have money though and finding food was not easy. Most of the time she starved. The only alternative was to steal from the others, but she preferred to starve instead. She was not good at sneaking, and most of the time she got caught. If she was lucky, she would be kicked away and gotten a warning not to come back. If she was lucky. Adults could be cruel. They showed no sympathy for the starving kids here. But those who she really feared were the other children. Mostly the griffons would pick on her and take the few things she had gathered. Often she would be beaten up by them for their own wicked enjoyment. If she was lucky they would throw a few scraps at her for doing insane stunts that could get her killed. It’s a surprise she survived for that long. She could also do other things like dance for them, fight them (or rather let herself get beaten up by them), or she could give... other kinds of enjoyment. But most of the time she avoided them, hiding in the alleyways away from the other kids. Here she could find comfort among her only friend, a small white rat that would follow her wherever she went. Many others would consider it a pet, but for her it was the closest thing she had to a true friend. Someone she didn’t fear, who never laughed at her, and loved her for what she was. It was the only reminder that she wasn’t alone. But that was soon to change. One night after a brutal brawl she had with an older griffon, she escaped into an alleyway she hadn’t seen before. At the moment, she was only happy to see that her small companion had joined her, but her attention soon moved over to something else. By the walls of the alley were many dimly lit fires, and before she could even question it, they suddenly flared, bathing the whole place in a bright purple light. Her gaze focused on a shrine at the end of the alley. It covered the wall with banners of the same colours as the fires. In the middle was a large dark crystal, bigger than any she had seen before, that hovered in the air in front of her. Although it didn’t glow, it radiated a comfortable heat. She could feel the magic flowing through the air, channeling from the shrine to her. That was when she realised she wasn’t alone. She turned around to see what came to be the greatest view in her life. She saw a great, white fire that was almost blinding, but she never moved her eyes away from it. In the middle of the fire she saw a pony. It had the normal proportion of an average earth pony, but she couldn’t tell if it was a mare or a stallion. What puzzled her even more was that it stood there, completely calm as if it hadn’t noticed the fire around. The pony’s mane and tail stood ablaze, like the fire, and its fur was completely black. It was the darkest thing she had ever seen, so dark that it just looked like a walking shadow. But the most intriguing part about it was the eyes. The eyes were black but reflected the alley around like the crystal in the shrine behind her. She could see her own reflection staring back at her, but it wasn’t herself she saw. The reflection’s eyes were dead. So very dead. She was sure. What looked at her was death. She was horrified by the scene in front of her. She only wished to escape. She wanted to go back to some crumbling building. Back to one of the griffon children. Anything that would get her away from it. She couldn’t hold back the fear anymore. She cried She cried so much that she almost didn’t notice the itch on her flank. When she looked up again the pony was gone, as well as the shrine. Everything was back to normal. When she felt the itch, she looked down at her flank which now bore a mark. A mark she had never seen before or knew the meaning of. She could feel the energy surging through her body with the mark as a conduit. She could control the flow of the magic with a remarkable ease. She felt more powerful than she could ever have imagined. For the first time, she could remember not feeling fear. Instead she felt another feeling, a more powerful feeling. She could feel it pulsate through her body with every heartbeat. She felt anger, hate, revenge. And she had to bring it out on someone. She began to seek out her tormentors, and she found them. Eating her food in a nearby alleyway. And now she stood in front of them, facing them. And she didn’t fear them. She only hated them. She wanted nothing but revenge. She concentrated all of that hate through her mark. She felt the magic flow around her, and it was fuelled by her anger. The other kids felt it. Everything got darker, and time seemed to slow down. They could see it in her eyes. That look she gave them. It tore through their eyes and ripped apart their souls. She could feel their fear which only made her stronger. She could see how horrified they were, but that was nothing compared to what they were about to experience. Rats. They were everywhere. They stormed through every alley, every window, every crack in the ground, their eyes fixed on one thing. The kids were standing terrified by the sight of thousands of hungry eyes all directed at them. The rats didn’t spare a second to eat their meal. The kids were hopeless. Their skin was being ripped of. The rats were digging through their muscles while they were still alive, and the filly never looked away from them. She saw the blood streaming out of their skinless bodies, still trying to fight of the rats. She heard their screams of agony. She could feel their pain. And she enjoyed it. Everyone who had ever stood in her way, everyone who had beaten or used her, they all died, slowly and painfully. She had never been so satisfied in her life. The anger, the hatred, the revenge had eaten her up her soul. She had become oblivious to her actions, and that let to her demise. A gift can be taken away as easily as it’s given. All it needed was one rat. All it took was a single bite. She could feel the bite mark through her flank. Out of all the pain she had survived through her life, none of it exceeded this. She could feel the poison spreading through her body until it came to her eyes. The pain made her weep, but not the tears she was used to. They were tears of pure blood. She ran as fast as her pained legs allowed her. When she reached the alley, she barely dragged herself to the shrine where she first met the pony. She wanted to see the pony one last time, the one that gave her this amazing gift. She wanted to thank him, because she now knew what it felt like not to be afraid. She could sleep now. She finally knew peace. Author's Note Thanks to Switches for proofreading this chapter. The Tales of Canterlot Chapter III "A madpony's dreams"The filly was young, very young. He couldn’t make out any details. It was too dark to see, but he did notice a few things. Most noticeably was the cutie mark,although it wasn’t a usual mark. It was the outsiders mark and it let out a dim glow which, in the darkness, was very easy to see. It left a small trace of smoke, like it was burning. He recognised it immediately. Another trait was her tears. They were made out of pure blood. Undoubtedly, she was a plague victim, but the most interesting thing was her eyes. The were pitch black, but he could see so many emotions in them; fear, anger, even happiness, but it was an evil happiness. He also saw pain, much more pain than he had ever seen before. Suddenly all these emotions left her eyes. They were washed away as death overcame her. The darkness enveloped her until there was nothing left of her. She was gone. Everything was black. Steam Engine didn’t remember the last time he had slept. It was always the same. He would fall asleep, he would dream about the strange filly, see her die an agonising death, and he would wake up, panting, cold, sweating, his heart pumping. He would then realise he had only slept an hour or so. It was a painful dream. He would stay up for days, trying to avoid the dream, but eventually he would doze, only to wake up more tired than before. He was always tired. The city was crumbling. Every day he looked out on the street and he would see more watch guards. More weepers. More gang wars. And every one who wasn’t any of these was fighting over the few crumbs left in the city. All while the aristocrats were dancing around in their plague-secure mansions, not bothering to even look down at the lifeless bodies. It was a very peculiar sight. Steam Engine had seen the already-splendid city grow to magnificent heights. He had seen the city in its greatest time in history. Now he saw that same city destroyed only a few years later by war. It fell even further when the elements were stolen, and now it was dying because of plague. Kinda ironic, he thought. He was an earth pony who had studied at the Equestrian academy of science. He had studied all the different branches of science, anything from physiology to astronomy to philosophy. He was one of those rare science ponies you could literally ask anything and he could answer, but despite his overall knowledge of science he always had a love for engineering. He was an inventor of all things mechanic. When he graduated he started a small business with repairs. He taught at Canterlot High and took patents on his inventions (provided they worked). He even got a short commission in Rosethorn inc. He was a genius in his right element. All that had changed lately. The only thing he kept after the fall was his repair shop... to some degree. He had no office, only a small table in the corner of a barely surviving tavern. He was one of its main incomes. It was black money, but he didn’t care. The only thing the guard did was hold the weepers away from the rich. They didn’t bother if money was exchanging hands between the poor. It was always the same. The bartender would lead customers to his table. They would give him an order. He gave them a price and time. He got the money and what he needed to repair. Incase they wanted an invention he would get the required resources. After the set time they would come back to receive their new hardware. Whether it was tools, weapons or other devices, he would always deliver on time, and he was never too poor for a meal. It should have been easy. He had a roof over his head, a mattress and sober every evening. Something the common pony had lost years ago. Despite all this he was more broken than any other pony. He tried his best to help the ponies around him, but he couldn’t. Not here. The ponies he helped were mostly gang members, religious fanatics, rebels, off-duty watch guards. Every pony he helped would only bring the city closer to it’s inevitable demise. His good heart was shattered, and he no longer cared for the consequences of his actions. He was going insane. A brilliant brain had been reduced to the mind of a madpony. A madpony who cared about nothing in the world. Except one thing. The filly. The little free time he had was used on research. He was obsessed. The dreams had become his life. It would seem insane to follow such a ludicrous lead, but he knew that the dreams were real. He would search day and night only to find that he was following a blind trail. He was disproving himself of every second he wasted in his spare time, but his stubbornness would pay off in the end. He found her. There wasn’t much about her. He only found small newspaper scraps from time to time. He would ask his contacts for information. They didn’t know much, but it was enough to follow up on. Every day he came closer to her. Who was she? How was she infected? Was she really the first plague victim? Every answer would only lead to a dozen more question. But in the end it paid off Until one day it stopped. It was like the road ended there. There were no more leads. No more clues. No more trails. He was in a dead stop. It was like this for days. He only grew more frustrated. There was nothing he could do now. He felt that his very being was weakened. There was nothing left for him. His last hope was fading away. He couldn’t take it anymore. In a last desperate attempt he tried to go to sleep. He wanted to see the filly one last time before all hope was lost. As he wished, he dozed off in his bed, entering the dream world again, but this time something happened that hadn’t happened for several years. The dream had changed. The filly wasn’t there and the darkness was replaced by a brightening light. He felt his body lift of the ground like he was weightless. When he looked around he saw many sights from his entire life, all scattered around him in an empty void. The dream was far more lucid than he had ever experienced before. He could freely move around the space. He sensed everything like he did everyday. It all felt too real. He landed on a small platform. Feeling the ground underneath him was a relief, but that soon ended. When he looked, up he saw a huge shadow. It was right in front of him, but its size was unmistakable. It filed-out the entire void before him. The shadow didn’t have any real form as it morphed around the void, but it wasn’t that, nor the sheer size that caught his attention. In the middle were a set of eyes. The only reason he could distinguish them from the rest, was because he could see him own reflection in them. Only it wasn’t his reflection. What stared back at him was cold and heartless. The eyes didn’t show any emotion, but the smile, that mocking little grin. The mouth soon widened and revealed a perfect set of teeth. Steam Engine was looking at death. And death smiled back. The shadow began to take away more of his vision. The void disappeared, and he was again engulfed in darkness. His reflection’s skin was peeling of. It soon revealed his skull. The eyes were replaced by a pair of blinding lights. Steam Engine saw death in its true form. He woke up like he always did. Panting heavily, sweating, his heart pumping, but this time he felt different. For the first time in his life he had seen clarity. He finally saw what his purpose was. He was more determined than he had ever been before. He leaped out of his bed and ran directly for his crafting table. It would become the greatest invention to ever be build by his hoofs. He only knew what it was. He didn’t know who it was for and to what purpose it would be used, nor did he care about it. It didn’t matter. It would be revealed soon enough. What laid on the table was a mask. It was made out of spare parts and was crudely screwed together. Where the mouth was, the upper and lower part of the mask was strung together with a golden wire, imitating teeth. The eyes were replaced with two lenses to cover it up completely. The mask resembled that of a pony’s skull, built to cover and protect its user while inducing fear in their enemies. It always showed that mocking, frightening smile. That horrible smile he had seen tonight. Steam Engine had build the mask of death.
The Tales of Canterlot Chapter I "Rise"Rosethorn was a young unicorn who had dedicated his life to science. He believed that the future relied on knowledge and progress, and that he could change the world with his research. He had gone to the Equestrian academy of science outside of Manehatten, where he studied engineering. He came up with the wildest theories and ideas. His machines and contraptions could change the world. Or at least that’s what he thought. His research had long been rejected and his ideas were washed away by the harsh words of professors and scientists, not just in Equestria, but all over the world. They said that his ideas were ludicrous and childish, and no one would ever back him in a project that was doomed from the beginning. Even with all his scientific research to back them up, no experiment, no data, no calculations, no matter how sound they were, could convince them that this was more than just a foal’s dream. He was enraged by their incompetence to see all this potential go to waste. Indeed he was brilliant, but he had never learned that potential and knowledge alone wasn’t enough to lead to progress. Some ponies would even face him with this fact, but he was too stubborn to accept it. This anger towards the scientific community filled him for years until he finally snapped. He let out all his rage like the air would leave a bursting balloon, except this time it ended with a pony’s teeth, laying on the ground in a side alley. He was released after four months in a prison, and by that time he was broken. He had no money, no home, and no friends to help through this tragedy. He was more alone than he could’ve ever imagined. He was no longer the brilliant scientist, filled with enthusiasm to the bristling point. All that was left was a depressing excuse of a pony you could only look down on. So he did the last thing he could think of. He gathered all the money he had left and used them on a train ticket to Canterlot. Although the City was reserved for the wealthy, known to be selfish and disgusted by the poor, it was still a nicer place to live on the streets. They were cleaner, and their was more help to gain. It was not a place for a scientist like him, but it was his last hope. Upon his arrival he was, despite his expectations, greeted well and in compassion. These were ponies who had lived through the same as he and only saw themselves in him. He was welcomed among their group and was looked to as an equal who deserved as much love and care as anypony else. And this made him cry in joy like he had never done before. After a month in his new home in the streets, he had come across an interesting custom. The poor would gather and collect the gems the rich use to decorate their clothing and furniture. They could be found anywhere. From the trashcans, the sides of the streets, or even floating up from the river. They would smash them with stones or other heavy objects until they were nothing but shards. They would throw them on a dimly lit fire and they would burst out in magnificent flames. They were more luminous than normal flames and would provide more heat and it took hours for them to burn out. It burned better than any of the best wood or coal anypony could provide. Especially the magic gems, which would burn for several days, so they were used only in the winter when it was needed. This was a normal custom among the poor in the city. But Rosethorn saw something completely different. While he had grown accustomed to the homeless life, he was still a genius who couldn’t be denied. Although he studied to be an engineer, he still knew a great deal about chemistry, and anyone with as much knowledge on the subject as he had would be standing in awe at the sight in front of him. He saw an energy source incomparable to any known fossil fuel. A normal gem could provide as much energy as any of the rare magical gems. The magical gems, if used in the same way, would produce many times the energy they would normally provide.The gems were much more energy rich than anypony thought them to be. They were common among the rich and middle class ponies, so none of them saw their potential, and the homeless ponies did not have the expertise. But he did. A moment of sudden clarity washed over him. Something that many ponies don’t get in their entire lifetime. Rosethorn looked at this discovery and realised that he did it in a side alley rather than in a high-tech lab with state-of-the-art equipment. He looked back at his old self, the enthusiastic academy student who dreamt about making the next scientific breakthrough. He looked back at the ponies, griffons, zebras, all races that were present in the scientific community. All those who laughed at him and called him a foal... and realised they were right. All his life he had been searching in vain, wasting his time with ridiculous ideas. He realised that all his life's work had been a waste. And that brought a smile to his face. Within years he became one of the most highly respected ponies in all of Equestria. His discovery brought the whole world into a new era of technology. Many ideas that were once dismissed and seen as ludicrous were now possible and many young scientist were given the chance that Rosethorn never had. As technology grew exponentially, the city of Canterlot grew with it. Every month the population doubled and Canterlot was no longer just the capital of Equestria but also the main seat of the scientific community and the centre of the world economy. He was meet by the princesses themselves as well as the bearers of the Elements of Harmony. He was appointed to lead the ministry of science and worked as one of Celestia’s personal advisors. Both the poor and the rich got wealthier in all the lands. The world was thrown into a golden age. That was at least what everyone thought. While gems were common in equestria and it’s neighbours, there were others who lacked them. In the far east, the Tartarus Union, home for the minotaures and many other races, was sparse on these resources. They lacked behind everyone else in economy and were soon outmatched, leading them into a financial crisis. Civil war plagued the east and their land was devastated. The minotaures blamed Celestia and Luna for this tragedy and demanded that they were given enough gems to rebuild their land. The princesses tried to help them, but even with their quantity of gems, they couldn’t provide them with enough to meet the minotaures’ terms. This lead to a great tension between the two lands. Equestria was backed by Grifferia, who also held a big part of gem resources. Griffon scientists developed weapons based on the new technology and provided weapons to their own military, as well as Equestria’s, who were waiting for the inevitable. After years of tension and political struggles it happened. War broke out. Although the minotaurs had a worse quality of weaponry, they gained that strength in sheer quantity. The battles were harsh. Many soldiers were killed and many cities were laid barren. The minotaurs were gaining the upper hand, Grifferia was being destroyed. The greatest cities of Equestria were conquered. But the ponies were still putting up a fight. While the minotaures were advancing, they also felt the greatest loss of soldiers. Counter attacks became more devastating. The advancement slowed down. It was a tie. Nobody knew what would happen. Both were preparing for the greatest battle in this war. The battle that would determine the fate of the world. The siege on Canterlot. ... ... ... But what did that matter? No matter who would win, there would still be death and suffering among both sides. There would still be houses that were levelled to the ground, leaving thousands homeless. Pain that would’ve never happened without his discovery. He would be known in the history books, not as the pony who brought forward a golden age, but the pony who caused a devastating world war. This is what Rosethorn was thinking at the moment. He was looking down from his balcony on Canterlot castle, looking at the canons raining fire over the city. Canons that wouldn’t be build if it wasn’t for him. He looked at the ponies who fled from the burning houses that were once their homes. A tear rolled down his cheek as he trotted inside his room. The guards were expecting to find Rosethorn in his room with packed bags, ready for the evacuation. What met them instead was the sight of a pony in a pool of blood and a bullet in his skull. It came from a newly invented pistol, shipped over from Grifferia. He had left the world with a recording device on his desk. One just needed to hit play: “Rosethorn Journal. 5th in the month of seeds, year 1007. It really is strange all of this... How life can change I mean... I’ve been everything from a homeless bum to princess Celestia's personal adviser. I’ve seen the golden age I made possible. I’ve lived in the greatest city on the planet, molded by my hooves... which is now being destroyed by those same hooves... *sigh* ...but I realised that all the way through, I was just a scientist. A pony who explored the nature of the world, in the name of progress...*chuckle*... It’s a fun thing with progress... It can take one to sublime heights... or drown one in devouring depths... and sometimes those two things are exactly the same... that’s a lesson you don’t learn at the science academy... but I learned it too well...End log”
The Tales of Canterlot Chapter II "The weeping foal"Once their was a young filly who knew only fear and loneliness. She lived off scavenging in the still-smoking rubble of a once great city. She didn’t remember it back then though. At the time, she was just a foal. She lost her parents during the siege. The only thing she could remember is the face of her mother and her soft, calming voice. She remembered how she could put one to sleep with her lullabies, no matter how sad or scared they were. The memory was the only light she had left in her world. But that was all it was. A memory. She had heard stories of the city before. It was the capital of Equestria and the centre of the world economy and science. A golden age where everyone was happy. A time where the princesses were kind and helped those few who needed it. And every day it still grew better and better... Until the war started. But it was nothing to her. They were just stories. Economy, science, war, kindness. She had heard the words, but she didn’t know what they meant. Even a name like Equestria had no meaning to her. Fancy words that only the princesses would use, princesses she barely knew anything about. She would mostly go down to the river. It was the place where it was easiest to find food like mushrooms and grass. Water was hardly a problem as you could imagine. From the river, she had a good view of the castle. She always tried to imagine it without the many destroyed walls and roofs and with whole windows. She tried to imagine the destroyed towers that laid as rubble at the root of the mountain, as if they still towered high up in the air, overlooking the city. It never succeeded for her though, no matter how hard she tried. Too bad. If they were whole, someone up their might see her and help her, but that was a hope she had abandoned long ago. The only problem with living by the river is that it was crowded. Most buildings were taken by other homeless. Because of the scarce food and shelter, they would push her away so they wouldn’t have to share. During the night, she retreated deeper into the city where there were more abandoned buildings. Here it was easier to find shelter for the night. She couldn’t find much wood in a city, built up mostly by stone, and she was too weak to smash the few gemstones she could find. Heat in the night was a luxury. Even by the river it was still hard to find food. Sometimes she would find money or other valuables in the rubble. She mostly used it to buy food from other scavengers. Most of the time she didn’t have money though and finding food was not easy. Most of the time she starved. The only alternative was to steal from the others, but she preferred to starve instead. She was not good at sneaking, and most of the time she got caught. If she was lucky, she would be kicked away and gotten a warning not to come back. If she was lucky. Adults could be cruel. They showed no sympathy for the starving kids here. But those who she really feared were the other children. Mostly the griffons would pick on her and take the few things she had gathered. Often she would be beaten up by them for their own wicked enjoyment. If she was lucky they would throw a few scraps at her for doing insane stunts that could get her killed. It’s a surprise she survived for that long. She could also do other things like dance for them, fight them (or rather let herself get beaten up by them), or she could give... other kinds of enjoyment. But most of the time she avoided them, hiding in the alleyways away from the other kids. Here she could find comfort among her only friend, a small white rat that would follow her wherever she went. Many others would consider it a pet, but for her it was the closest thing she had to a true friend. Someone she didn’t fear, who never laughed at her, and loved her for what she was. It was the only reminder that she wasn’t alone. But that was soon to change. One night after a brutal brawl she had with an older griffon, she escaped into an alleyway she hadn’t seen before. At the moment, she was only happy to see that her small companion had joined her, but her attention soon moved over to something else. By the walls of the alley were many dimly lit fires, and before she could even question it, they suddenly flared, bathing the whole place in a bright purple light. Her gaze focused on a shrine at the end of the alley. It covered the wall with banners of the same colours as the fires. In the middle was a large dark crystal, bigger than any she had seen before, that hovered in the air in front of her. Although it didn’t glow, it radiated a comfortable heat. She could feel the magic flowing through the air, channeling from the shrine to her. That was when she realised she wasn’t alone. She turned around to see what came to be the greatest view in her life. She saw a great, white fire that was almost blinding, but she never moved her eyes away from it. In the middle of the fire she saw a pony. It had the normal proportion of an average earth pony, but she couldn’t tell if it was a mare or a stallion. What puzzled her even more was that it stood there, completely calm as if it hadn’t noticed the fire around. The pony’s mane and tail stood ablaze, like the fire, and its fur was completely black. It was the darkest thing she had ever seen, so dark that it just looked like a walking shadow. But the most intriguing part about it was the eyes. The eyes were black but reflected the alley around like the crystal in the shrine behind her. She could see her own reflection staring back at her, but it wasn’t herself she saw. The reflection’s eyes were dead. So very dead. She was sure. What looked at her was death. She was horrified by the scene in front of her. She only wished to escape. She wanted to go back to some crumbling building. Back to one of the griffon children. Anything that would get her away from it. She couldn’t hold back the fear anymore. She cried She cried so much that she almost didn’t notice the itch on her flank. When she looked up again the pony was gone, as well as the shrine. Everything was back to normal. When she felt the itch, she looked down at her flank which now bore a mark. A mark she had never seen before or knew the meaning of. She could feel the energy surging through her body with the mark as a conduit. She could control the flow of the magic with a remarkable ease. She felt more powerful than she could ever have imagined. For the first time, she could remember not feeling fear. Instead she felt another feeling, a more powerful feeling. She could feel it pulsate through her body with every heartbeat. She felt anger, hate, revenge. And she had to bring it out on someone. She began to seek out her tormentors, and she found them. Eating her food in a nearby alleyway. And now she stood in front of them, facing them. And she didn’t fear them. She only hated them. She wanted nothing but revenge. She concentrated all of that hate through her mark. She felt the magic flow around her, and it was fuelled by her anger. The other kids felt it. Everything got darker, and time seemed to slow down. They could see it in her eyes. That look she gave them. It tore through their eyes and ripped apart their souls. She could feel their fear which only made her stronger. She could see how horrified they were, but that was nothing compared to what they were about to experience. Rats. They were everywhere. They stormed through every alley, every window, every crack in the ground, their eyes fixed on one thing. The kids were standing terrified by the sight of thousands of hungry eyes all directed at them. The rats didn’t spare a second to eat their meal. The kids were hopeless. Their skin was being ripped of. The rats were digging through their muscles while they were still alive, and the filly never looked away from them. She saw the blood streaming out of their skinless bodies, still trying to fight of the rats. She heard their screams of agony. She could feel their pain. And she enjoyed it. Everyone who had ever stood in her way, everyone who had beaten or used her, they all died, slowly and painfully. She had never been so satisfied in her life. The anger, the hatred, the revenge had eaten her up her soul. She had become oblivious to her actions, and that let to her demise. A gift can be taken away as easily as it’s given. All it needed was one rat. All it took was a single bite. She could feel the bite mark through her flank. Out of all the pain she had survived through her life, none of it exceeded this. She could feel the poison spreading through her body until it came to her eyes. The pain made her weep, but not the tears she was used to. They were tears of pure blood. She ran as fast as her pained legs allowed her. When she reached the alley, she barely dragged herself to the shrine where she first met the pony. She wanted to see the pony one last time, the one that gave her this amazing gift. She wanted to thank him, because she now knew what it felt like not to be afraid. She could sleep now. She finally knew peace. Author's Note Thanks to Switches for proofreading this chapter.
The Tales of Canterlot Chapter III "A madpony's dreams"The filly was young, very young. He couldn’t make out any details. It was too dark to see, but he did notice a few things. Most noticeably was the cutie mark,although it wasn’t a usual mark. It was the outsiders mark and it let out a dim glow which, in the darkness, was very easy to see. It left a small trace of smoke, like it was burning. He recognised it immediately. Another trait was her tears. They were made out of pure blood. Undoubtedly, she was a plague victim, but the most interesting thing was her eyes. The were pitch black, but he could see so many emotions in them; fear, anger, even happiness, but it was an evil happiness. He also saw pain, much more pain than he had ever seen before. Suddenly all these emotions left her eyes. They were washed away as death overcame her. The darkness enveloped her until there was nothing left of her. She was gone. Everything was black. Steam Engine didn’t remember the last time he had slept. It was always the same. He would fall asleep, he would dream about the strange filly, see her die an agonising death, and he would wake up, panting, cold, sweating, his heart pumping. He would then realise he had only slept an hour or so. It was a painful dream. He would stay up for days, trying to avoid the dream, but eventually he would doze, only to wake up more tired than before. He was always tired. The city was crumbling. Every day he looked out on the street and he would see more watch guards. More weepers. More gang wars. And every one who wasn’t any of these was fighting over the few crumbs left in the city. All while the aristocrats were dancing around in their plague-secure mansions, not bothering to even look down at the lifeless bodies. It was a very peculiar sight. Steam Engine had seen the already-splendid city grow to magnificent heights. He had seen the city in its greatest time in history. Now he saw that same city destroyed only a few years later by war. It fell even further when the elements were stolen, and now it was dying because of plague. Kinda ironic, he thought. He was an earth pony who had studied at the Equestrian academy of science. He had studied all the different branches of science, anything from physiology to astronomy to philosophy. He was one of those rare science ponies you could literally ask anything and he could answer, but despite his overall knowledge of science he always had a love for engineering. He was an inventor of all things mechanic. When he graduated he started a small business with repairs. He taught at Canterlot High and took patents on his inventions (provided they worked). He even got a short commission in Rosethorn inc. He was a genius in his right element. All that had changed lately. The only thing he kept after the fall was his repair shop... to some degree. He had no office, only a small table in the corner of a barely surviving tavern. He was one of its main incomes. It was black money, but he didn’t care. The only thing the guard did was hold the weepers away from the rich. They didn’t bother if money was exchanging hands between the poor. It was always the same. The bartender would lead customers to his table. They would give him an order. He gave them a price and time. He got the money and what he needed to repair. Incase they wanted an invention he would get the required resources. After the set time they would come back to receive their new hardware. Whether it was tools, weapons or other devices, he would always deliver on time, and he was never too poor for a meal. It should have been easy. He had a roof over his head, a mattress and sober every evening. Something the common pony had lost years ago. Despite all this he was more broken than any other pony. He tried his best to help the ponies around him, but he couldn’t. Not here. The ponies he helped were mostly gang members, religious fanatics, rebels, off-duty watch guards. Every pony he helped would only bring the city closer to it’s inevitable demise. His good heart was shattered, and he no longer cared for the consequences of his actions. He was going insane. A brilliant brain had been reduced to the mind of a madpony. A madpony who cared about nothing in the world. Except one thing. The filly. The little free time he had was used on research. He was obsessed. The dreams had become his life. It would seem insane to follow such a ludicrous lead, but he knew that the dreams were real. He would search day and night only to find that he was following a blind trail. He was disproving himself of every second he wasted in his spare time, but his stubbornness would pay off in the end. He found her. There wasn’t much about her. He only found small newspaper scraps from time to time. He would ask his contacts for information. They didn’t know much, but it was enough to follow up on. Every day he came closer to her. Who was she? How was she infected? Was she really the first plague victim? Every answer would only lead to a dozen more question. But in the end it paid off Until one day it stopped. It was like the road ended there. There were no more leads. No more clues. No more trails. He was in a dead stop. It was like this for days. He only grew more frustrated. There was nothing he could do now. He felt that his very being was weakened. There was nothing left for him. His last hope was fading away. He couldn’t take it anymore. In a last desperate attempt he tried to go to sleep. He wanted to see the filly one last time before all hope was lost. As he wished, he dozed off in his bed, entering the dream world again, but this time something happened that hadn’t happened for several years. The dream had changed. The filly wasn’t there and the darkness was replaced by a brightening light. He felt his body lift of the ground like he was weightless. When he looked around he saw many sights from his entire life, all scattered around him in an empty void. The dream was far more lucid than he had ever experienced before. He could freely move around the space. He sensed everything like he did everyday. It all felt too real. He landed on a small platform. Feeling the ground underneath him was a relief, but that soon ended. When he looked, up he saw a huge shadow. It was right in front of him, but its size was unmistakable. It filed-out the entire void before him. The shadow didn’t have any real form as it morphed around the void, but it wasn’t that, nor the sheer size that caught his attention. In the middle were a set of eyes. The only reason he could distinguish them from the rest, was because he could see him own reflection in them. Only it wasn’t his reflection. What stared back at him was cold and heartless. The eyes didn’t show any emotion, but the smile, that mocking little grin. The mouth soon widened and revealed a perfect set of teeth. Steam Engine was looking at death. And death smiled back. The shadow began to take away more of his vision. The void disappeared, and he was again engulfed in darkness. His reflection’s skin was peeling of. It soon revealed his skull. The eyes were replaced by a pair of blinding lights. Steam Engine saw death in its true form. He woke up like he always did. Panting heavily, sweating, his heart pumping, but this time he felt different. For the first time in his life he had seen clarity. He finally saw what his purpose was. He was more determined than he had ever been before. He leaped out of his bed and ran directly for his crafting table. It would become the greatest invention to ever be build by his hoofs. He only knew what it was. He didn’t know who it was for and to what purpose it would be used, nor did he care about it. It didn’t matter. It would be revealed soon enough. What laid on the table was a mask. It was made out of spare parts and was crudely screwed together. Where the mouth was, the upper and lower part of the mask was strung together with a golden wire, imitating teeth. The eyes were replaced with two lenses to cover it up completely. The mask resembled that of a pony’s skull, built to cover and protect its user while inducing fear in their enemies. It always showed that mocking, frightening smile. That horrible smile he had seen tonight. Steam Engine had build the mask of death.
