A Thousand Year Peace

Despite Their Royal Majesties' best efforts, poverty still had a foothold in Their realm. He and his brother were a testament to that, having survived the slums of Manehattan only through sheer wit and mettle and a shared love of of invention and mechanics. Their education and shelter was provided by the crown, and little else. They had no certificates of birth, no papers or titles to speak of, not even names. They were only known as The Brothers at school, or as the Little One or the Big One if they were spoken to as individuals.

The most damning fact about them though, were their horns. They were viewed with either pity or contempt for being 'discards of high-society', and were treated as such by their peers. One of the few who didn't outright bully them was a lavender filly, the protege of Princess Celestia, but even then, she ignored them.

As they grew, their inventions grew in both size and complexity. They sold them for mere pittances, not realizing their true value until it was too late. And when they defended their claims, they were simply laughed out of the debate. After all, who would listen to a pair of outcast street rats?

So they had to be shrewd, sometimes ruthless even, to get by. Every step could have spelt disaster for their business, every step determined whether or not they got to sup. The Brothers made a name for themselves as door-to-door salesponies who brought untold opportunity. And then they received direction from a barrel of cider, thoughtlessly discarded as excess from a noblemare's party.

"Fresh Cider from Sweet Apple Acres, Ponyville" The label read.

"Brother?" Little One looked at his hero, as he drank a mug of the sweet liquid, "Wouldn't it be nice if we could drink cider like this every day? If only it weren't so expensive, then maybe we could even share it with everyone!"

"That it would, Brother. That it would." Big One smiled, a dreaming look in his eyes.

That dream was the start of their journey. They worked hard, even sneaking into the library at night to learn about the secrets of cider pressing. They set aside some of their little money to buy Sweet Apple Acres cider to compare against. They refined their blueprints, manufacturing in secret lest their invention be discovered.

The weight of every failure and every theft began to weigh on Big One's shoulders with every passing year. He became less and less the kind, caring brother Little One knew, and more of the ruthless, exploitative stallion everypony else knew. Little One could only continue to wear the mask they had made for themselves, hoping that his Big Brother would come to his senses and see what he -- they -- had become.

It all came to a boil the night after the Flim-Flam Brothers were run out of Ponyville by its residents.

"You worthless, sniveling, naive foal!" Flam roared, striking a hoof against Flim's muzzle as his voice took on a mocking tone, "'It doesn't have to be that way' my arse! You have to be cunning, ruthless to survive! Haven't those years taught you anything?"

"They've taught me how to be clever, Brother, not how to be a monster! There's a difference there." Flim recoiled as his brother struck again.

He didn't care if he was crying. "We've gone too far, admit it! It's only right that we've been run out of that town, and its only right that we take responsibility of what we've done."

"You ingrate! After everything I've done for you!"

"You're the one who's wasting all of the good we've done." Flim levitated his baggage, "I'm leaving you to rot."

"And where do you think you're going, huh? Your reputation is just as bad as mine, and you don't know anything except how to be a con! Face it, you won't even survive a week alone!"

Flim stopped in his tracks, grudgingly accepting the point in his brother's words. Their actions had earned them the ire of a lot of ponies. He was sure by now that word was spreading throughout Equestria, and they would have to live with being outcasts.

"So, what now, Brother?" He set his bags down.

Yet, Flim held on to his ideals.