The Messenger

by BronyFire

Rating: mature
Tags: Comedy, Tragedy, Slice of Life, Romance
Length: 1169

Luna had a friend. Luna had a messenger. Unfortunately this friend was the messenger.

Luna had a friend. This friend was a clot named Bluebrush. He promised her that he would protect and serve her. This is his story.

NOT A SELF INSERT!! IM A DOUCHE IN REAL LIFE!!

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2013-09-25 04:50:02 UTC

Chapter 1

       Today is just a normal Friday. Just a normal day. Maybe…

       Let me introduce myself: my name is Bluebrush. I'm just an average Pegasus, with above-average looks and average intelligence. My friends and quite a few mares say that I inherited the best of both my best qualities their British accents and their looks. My mane and tail are a blonde with highlights of neon blue.  I sighed as I looked in the mirror, noticing my mane was unkempt as usual. I picked up my comb, attempting to brush it into behaving. Growing frustrated with its characteristic stubbornness, I decided to gel my hooves. With the mane product glistening, I brushed my irritating mane back smoothly, finally fixing it.

I looked down to clear my scarf of dust. Once finished with that I put my crescent moon necklace on. It was a gift from Luna that he would always hold close to his heart.

    My eyes are neon blue like my hair. The last notable trait I had was my Cutie Mark which was an hour glass in front of paintbrush. I received my Cutie Mark when I painted the stars. I painted to the best of my ability. Oh and may I tell you I was not young when I got my mark.

     Luna is actually the reason I got it.

Princess Luna was walking down the road, on an annual parade to honor her solstice, the longest night of the year. It was a night that was devoted to moonlit, romantic walks, soft music, candles, and stargazing. She had closed her eyes, enjoying the scents and sounds of the crowd around her. Each pony present had brought a different candle scent to try to capture her attention and earn a place next to her on the float that year. I had brought an unassuming scent: the soft fragrance of lilies. I wasn't trying to stand out. I just wanted to paint. But painting the stars during a parade is really stupid. The she saw me, she just kind of… looked. Five seconds later I saw Princess Luna standing before her captain, whispering in his ear. He nodded to what she was saying, and then escorted her to where I was painting. Luna grabbed the brush from me. I winced, thinking the painting was likely an offensive, ugly painting. Her eyes narrowed, then widened as she studied it. She smiled at the art, and whispered to the captain once more. He nodded, gesturing towards me with his horn. My eyes widened as she walked over to me, levitated my candle up to her nostrils, and inhaled delicately. She smiled, her eyes half-lidded, and gave me the flower she had embedded in her hair, which to my shock was a lily.

I followed her back to her float, having received the honor that year of standing beside her. When I joined her on the stage, she levitated my a necklace with a crescent moon on it around my neck, and returned my paintbrush , talking animatedly about how she loved what I made with it. She told me she thought I had captured her sky beautifully. She was impressed with the artwork I had taken of her sky, telling me it had an air of tranquility within it, and of course i gave it to her. She was stunning up close, wrecking my nerves with her gorgeous beauty.

The night eventually drew to a close, and my time allotted to be by her side was almost up. I was stepping down from her stage when she called me. I walked back, curious as to why she called me, and froze when she had asked me if I was interested in helping. Of course I said yes. She had been delighted, and her entire face lit up with joy.

     I tightened my scarf, and jumped out the window. I began to fly along my path to the castle more, which was surprisingly light on traffic. Sure, it was 6:30 in the morning, but this was a main throughfare, usually teeming with large amounts of other ponies chatting. Humming lightly in my throat, I began to fly down the path, exercising my wings. I made sure to keep my workout light, to prevent perspiration. It wouldn't do to appear before royalty sweaty and out of breath. Soon I saw the vast walls of the Canterlot Castle looming over the forest path, the white walls rising high into the sky, almost seeming to reach for the heavens from this angle. The door I was entering was a private entrance, used only by students of the teachers and servants, in order to keep more common ponies from disturbing the Princesses. Anyone with a request went through another door which led directly to the court hall, while supplies were airlifted by pegasi to the upper floors housing the kitchens. It was a strange design for a castle, but efficient as it let smoke from cooking vent easier. Celestia that place is a masterpiece.

     I was almost at the door when it opened up, revealing two guards, a black unicorn and a white pegasus. The Night and Day Guard. I waved  respectfully to them. I had been working here for a year, people knew me. I passed through the Hero's Hall first, with its stained glass windows depicting scenes from Equestrian history. The first Fall of Discord was the second of the images, following after the Creation by Caeli and Aeternam. I studied the rendition of Princess Luna carefully, watching as she and her sister harnessed the Elements of Harmony to entomb Discord in stone. This marked the fall of Chaos, when ponies would kill each other without rhyme or reason, when the sun and stars would shine and disappear at a glance, and the time when life was difficult because of the lack of friendship between the pony races.

     I continued through the hall somewhat slowly, soaking the images into our heads, and keeping hushed in the face of such hallowed scenes. We eventually passed into the Art Hall. This hall was filled with exquisite paintings from artists such as Pablo Ponisco, Ponytello, Jean Hay, and Poni-angelo. The ceiling itself was personally painted by Poni-angelo over 400 years ago, and yet still remained vibrant. After the painting showcase, we came to the musical anthology, featuring many great classical artists. I was reading the dates of the artists when I came upon a surprise. Two ponies at the end of the list, Octavia and DJ Pon3, were yet still alive. It was a prestigious title indeed to be alive when your name was transcribed on any art wall, and I was always impressed.

     I eventually made my way from the Art Hall, and turned onto a stairwell leading upwards towards the Princess' private quarters, where my job were to begin. Eventually I fell into remembering that night again, zoning into the night I first met Princess Luna