The Chronicle of Equestria: Miseriae

I will now give an account of my time in the realm of Vanaheim (you, reader, know it as Equestria), the third of the nine Realms of Yygdrasil. For those in the realm of Midgard (you who dwell there call it Earth), this will be a non-canonical section of my currently unpublished work, The Chronicles of the Other Realm. While every event that happens in the canon of that work will take place in the realm of Álfheim (they who reside there call it Osiris), I will give you, reader, a glimpse of the events that I will not speak of in my largest work.

Because the events in this account take place far into my story, there will be some concepts that I will try to make clear that you may understand the section. However, some of the questions you may ask yourself while reading this fragment of my sagas will likely remain unanswered. I should further warn you that my style of writing is most likely not what you are accustomed. While I do my best to be descriptive, the scope of events that I am used to describing, compel me to write in a method of summarization; hence the title, “The Chronicle of Equestria” and not “The Tale of Equestria.”

This story will take the form of three books, each containing several chapters. Although some of my chapters may be longer than others, realize that I do not write anything down which I do not believe is important to the story. This brings me to my final point. Some of the events I write in this book will be certainly disquieting and the rating posted for this story is very appropriate. Please understand reader that I will never write anything in these pages for shock value alone. I am not proud of several of the chapters that I will write; however, I believe that each and every one is completely necessary for your understanding of the gravity of this work. Furthermore, I should advise you to regard such events with respect and solemnity. This first book, after all, is called, “Miseriae,” which in English means, “Miseries.” I will now begin my account.

I sat motionless in the center of the prison cell. Lit by dim red lights on the ceiling, there was barely enough light to see anything in it. The cubical cell was made of six feet of reinforced steel. There were six doors each made of reinforced steel between me and the hallway that led to the rest of the prison. There was no way that I could break out at my current level of limited power. Not that it really mattered. I had allowed myself to be captured in the first place by the local authorities. I allowed myself to be put on trial. And when I was sentenced, I chose not to escape. “The Book of Statues” says clearly in section seven, subsection alpha, “Unless the country in question is engaged in any type of military conflict, those who inhabit it must abide by its laws.” Therefore, I would play nice for now; at least until they let me off the leash.

The goddess-queen that had the audacity and power to rule the entire realm was so Machiavellian that she threw me into one of the most secure jails that I had ever encountered just because I appeared from out of nowhere; being an illegal alien. When I inquired of myself as to why she did this, I found a use for my time while sitting there in pseudo-darkness.

My body and soul were completely without motion, but my spirit was hovering through Vanaheim, or Equestria, as the natives called it. [I shall henceforth use the native names rather than the empyreal ones.] I was surveying how this world operated. Although my body took the form of a man, the inhabitants of this realm took the form of ponies. Yet they were very different from the ponies to which the inhabitants of Earth and Osiris are accustomed. These ponies were much more brightly colored; for their number encompassed almost every color that on could conceive. Their coats were often colored a lighter color and their manes a darker one. Also, their faces were more expressive and defined, more human and less equine than the ponies to which you have seen. Their mouths were not nearly as protrusive, and their eyes maintained a diversity of color equal to their coats.

Of all the ponies, there appeared to be three species living in the realm. There were pegasi, unicorns, and simple ponies (I later found that they were called “Earth ponies”). Specifically, the unicorns and pegasi fascinated me. Like the Pegasus of Greek mythology, there were many pegasi that had wings which they used for flight. The bases of their wings were located on their upper back. The wings themselves were small in proportion to their bodies; their wingspans not exceeding four feet. Despite this, they were extremely fast flyers; accelerating to speeds I though not possible for mortals. That said, they were not nearly as fast when travelling by hoof. The pegasi seemed to have control over the clouds in the sky and could walk and sit on them as though they were solid ground. I marveled at this when I understood that they were the only kind able to do it. Something in their genetics, unique to their kind, gave them this ability, though I could not discern what it was.

Likewise, as their name implies, the unicorns had horns protruding from their heads. The size and length of these horns differed from pony to pony; some being long and thin while others were short and fat. What gave me further shock, was that, apparently through the use of their horns, a select few the unicorns could use magic. And when I say magic, I do not mean controlling the actions of another or summoning a familiar spirit, but I mean something that I had never seen before: they could alter space at will! I was very surprised at this as it redefined my conception of magic. When they would use this magic, their horns would produce an aura which would match the color of their eyes (with a few unexplainable exceptions). After I was released from prison I would have to speak to my sister Ichigo, who would be able to make sense of this marvel.

Lastly there were the Earth Ponies (not to be confused with “ponies from Earth.” They had no odd characteristics (at least by the standards of this realm), but were noticeably stronger than either the unicorns or pegasi. Lengthier too was their endurance and perseverance. According to some legends that I heard, they had been in Equestria first and were “naturally connected to it;” whatever that meant. Initially, I assumed that they were a race found lower in the social classes, but this theory was soon disproven.

They spoke a language that was an odd dialect of what the humans of my daughter, Kanna’s region spoke. Yes, it was an odd dialect of English. Despite my unfamiliarity with the language, I was thankful that it was not some strange one that would take me a while to pick up. So after a short while, I was able to completely understand every conversation that I witnessed in spirit.

Another thing I realized was that a good eighty-five percent of the population appeared to be of the female gender. I pondered this a while, because it, within my short frame of reference of only a week, appeared to be stable. To this day I am unsure of the reproductive habits of these people. Respecting their privacy, I never did witness the actual act; however, enough on that topic.

After examining the populace of the country as a whole, I looked to astrological workings of the world. I found that, as on both Earth and Osiris, the central planet had one sun and one moon. Yet I realized that there must have been some changes in the distance of the bodies because when the sun set, the moon rose after it. When the sun was up, the moon had already set behind the horizon. When the moon was in the sky, the sun could not be seen. So if one was out at night just as the moon was setting, one would be enveloped in complete darkness for moments before the dawn.

I should also note that the seasons did not change in the normal way. Rather than the seasons change for themselves, it was required of all the ponies in the land to complete the actions necessary for the changing of the seasons. I shall speak no more of this. Know simply though that the natural order that is found so easily on Earth had to be replicated by manual work on the realm of Equestria.

After I examined the heavens in full; noting all of the beautiful constellations, I sought then to examine the earth. The country that I was imprisoned in was entirely surrounded by geographic barriers. It was no wonder that the tyrant maintained control over it as it was nearly impregnable. To the east there was a range of tall mountains too steep for any to climb. This mountain range bounded the eastern part of the kingdom. Out of curiosity, I went past the mountains and saw a great ocean that never seemed to end. Because, travel is not so difficult in spirit, I was able to find another land mass about three thousand miles from the shore of the continent of ponies. On that land mass lived a colony of dragons abiding in massive cities. After seeing this, I left promptly from that place and returned to the kingdom.

The southern boundary was hemmed in by a massive forest full of many feral and wild creatures. I later came to know that it was called the Everfree. To the north there was another mountain range, though I perceived that it could be crossed by a madman if he was desperate. Beyond it I glimpsed a kingdom where griffons ruled. I gazed at them for a time, but was compelled to look away because of the savagery in their culture and the unspeakable atrocities that they regularly committed.

To the far east there were a great number of walled cities beyond another mountain range. Their names were Manehatten, Fillydelphia, Canterberry, Trottingheim, and Tramplevania. Each was a well-stocked and defended city which appeared to be able to hold out in the event of a long siege. At the foot of the eastern border of the mountain range, there was a large fortified city called Stalliongrad which guarded the only conceivable pass through the mountains. It appeared to be a citadel defending the capital city which was at the end of the pass and concealed within the western end of the mountain range.

Locating the capital from far off, I decided to examine it closer and went there. When I arrived, I was completely awed by what I saw. Canterlot was massive and tremendous. The city, the capital of Equestria, was carved into the centermost of the mountains in the range. Thus it was shaped like a cone; made of seven levels ascending up the mountain. Each of these levels was made by carving a ring-shaped hole deep into the mountain; the edges these rings serving as walls for each of the levels. And the wall surrounding each level was one hundred feet taller than the one below it; the first level having a wall fifty feet high. Each level of the city had a massive steel gate and each gate faced a different direction so that if one wanted to ascend up the levels of the city, he would have to travel around the circumference of the level to the other side. The bottom level was two miles in diameter. And around the mountain of the city was an outer wall that was one hundred feet high, eighty feet thick, and six miles around. How the ponies of this world managed to accomplish such a feat, I thought I would never know. It must have been magic.

Though awed by the sheer immensity of the city, I continued to look upwards and saw palace looming; built into the mountain so that it hung from the side. Its base was at a height of eight thousand feet. Apart from the city, the size of the palace itself was staggering enough. It was not one, singular structure, but was made up of ten of towers; each made of white stone and topped with a golden, pointed dome. Each tower had a different height but all of them reached over five hundred feet. From below, I could not see the limit of the highest tower as it pierced through the clouds. And from several windows, in the towers, waterfalls of sourceless water flowed.

My first instinct was to criticize the architectural design as it was built on the wall of a high mountain. Hanging on the side, it looked like an accident waiting to happen. Yet I could also see the military benefits of it as well. Attacking the actual palace would be very difficult without an army of pegasi, as the sides of the mountain were too steep to climb. From the top of the palace one could survey, on a clear day, a good portion of the kingdom with the help of a telescope. At that time, I tried to enter into the place, but I found that there was a strong barrier that kept out empyreal spirits. I suppose I should also note that the prison I was located in was just outside of the city, sitting magically on a cloud high in the air so as to decrease the already minimal chances of escape.

Thus having surveyed the splendor of the city, I then went to examine, for the first time, the ponies who lived there on a more detailed level. I immediately noticed the lavish lifestyle that the people lived there. They lived in houses that looked to be made of the finest wood that could be afforded in the whole realm. The average size of a house was about six-thousand square feet large. The typical home I went inside had beautiful walls made of marble and covered with tapestry made of silk died with the most vibrant colors. Every house boasted a large banner that had a tree of families on it that somehow connected its owners to royalty. And I soon perceived that as the number of royal families increased, so did the house’s proximity to the palace. Only the most closely related to the tyrant lived on the seventh level of the city. Consequently, those who lacked much noble blood lived in the lowest level of the city. Though, even the poorest, most unroyal citizens could not be called poor. The average income of a household I found to be astoundingly larger than what it was in my kingdom.

The young enjoyed going to universities where they spent many easy years in study for high paying careers. And after graduation, for four days a week, they spent a sole eight hours working. Many were lawyers, others CEOs and others were leaders in the trade of design. The art produced there was post-impressionistic, and hence, was not to my tastes; yet, I perceived that the abundance of culture in the city indicated a golden age. When they were not working white collar jobs where they raked in money like leaves, they went to sophisticated dinner parties or pegasus races. They went about their business with posh demeanors every day; having barely a care in the world. Yes, the ponies in that city had that highest standard of living I had ever witnessed.

With a good feeling, I decided to move to another city to see if the whole of the realm had this kind of splendor to it. So looking at a map, I decided to go to a small town called Ponyville in the west, which had about five hundred residents. So, instantly appearing there, I began to observe the difference between the capital and the other cities. What I saw was nearly heartbreaking. As soon as my spirit reached the border of the settlement, I saw that Charlotte, the spirit of Despair, and her subordinates had control of the whole town. The whole region, including the air was teeming with the black creatures. If the empyreal realm required light to see, I would have been blind, as their number blocked the sun. Never had I seen such a great mass of demons concentrated into one area.

I looked and witnessed the lives of the ponies there. On the first day of the week they would awake early in the morning, even before the sun rose, and began work. Whether it was farming or cooking, or producing, all of their work appeared backbreaking, and there was no end to it until the sun went down. Every day it was like this in and out. There were no days of rest. I saw a pony who had the apparent age of 11 stop her labor to rest. A soldier from the town garrison, who was overseeing the labor, struck her with a rod and told her to cease her laziness. This was a regular event. At the end of the day, they returned to their hovels, and the garrison that was in the town distributed a meager ration of food. After eating, I perceived that every pony went to bed and they repeated the same each day with no respite. They received no benefit for the quality of their labor either. All the wealth that they could have gained was sent to Canterlot for the wealthy to squander.

I then observed the educational system. I call the buildings they went to “school,” though only because that is what they best represent. This is not a fair description. Something of these people I have failed as of yet to mention is the subject of the cutie mark. On the backside of every grown pony in all the land was a sign. That sign appears when the young pony (I believe they call them foals) discovers the profession that he or she is destined to undertake, as a picture representing that profession. For example, one who would be a baker may have a mark that looked like a cupcake on their flank. To my knowledge, no two cutie marks have ever been identical although many appeared quite similar. Now, the goal of these schools was to have foals try every possible activity they could until their cutie mark appeared. This usually happened around the age of eleven. The problem was that, the authorities in the area did not always allow a pony to work in their special profession, but they tended to categorize certain marks and placed the ponies in jobs where demand required rather than paying attention to what the cutie marks actually presented. Once I saw that a pony who had a cutie mark that was clearly a beach ball sent to work in a steel mill all her life.

Returning to the living conditions of the ponies,  Their families were put together by the authorities: biological relatives did not live with one another, but the foals were snatched up and housed elsewhere at birth. Each family unit was given a number. This number corresponded to a certain hovel that was identical to every other house in the city. There they would live until the dark end of their days. Eighty-one houses made up a block and each block was surrounded by a fifteen-foot-high wall. Every wall was covered with posters with pictures of Celestia, the goddess-queen of the realm whose power it was to control the sun and moon. Each of them had a message that spread propaganda.

After just a day, nothing really surprised me anymore. Every now and then, a pony imagining that perhaps there was something better than the life of endless, fruitless toil would ask about the relative state of their oppression. As soon as they spoke, they were they were hanged without trial and their corpse was left to rot; hanging from the block walls as a reminder to every other pony. I would like to point out the brevity of these occurrences. The second that there was even a hint of possibility that a pony questioned the status quo, they were immediately executed. Yet as these incidents did happen, they were rare. As a whole, all of Ponyville did not know that such a thing as freedom existed. In the schools they were taught to unquestioningly obey the tyrannical figures that ruled over them and never asked why. It was all they knew.

Neither was there any mourning. If a pony became sick, there were two outcomes that came of illness. If the malady was deemed curable by a town doctor, then they would be transported to a clinic near the blocks. Then they would be transported back to the workplace after a speedy recovery and life would resume. Yet if the sickness was deemed incurable, the pony would be taken underground to the catacombs and entombed there to die. When such things happened, the pony’s family did not weep even as they worked. They simply accepted that they would never see their beloved one again. Loss was a daily part of their lives. After seeing all this I went to the other cities. There was no difference anywhere else. So, my spirit returning to my body, I collapsed and wept for them: all they who suffered under the sun.

Now if they were to act, to rise up and fight against their oppressors, there was a possibility that the ponies might have gained their freedom. I looked over all the world for one of the lowliest subordinates of the god of Passion. Yet there was no sign of any of one. When I asked myself why this was, I came to the following conclusions. The great inhibitor of Passion who leads people to action is pain. And this “pain” can divided into acute and chronic pain. As an example of acute pain, I cite Fear. Fear is an extreme and immediate emotion. When Fear is present, the natural reaction is just to curl up in a ball and wait out the situation in hopes that the cause of the fear will simply go away. Yet almost always, the cause will never leave. In the case of these ponies, the hanged, rotting corpses of friends, and the daily beatings if they attempted to rest, kept all of them in a constant state of fear. In terms of chronic pain, I cite Despair. Despair is a dull but equally intense form of pain. When Despair is present, once again, the reaction is just to hope that the pain will go away. When pain exists, there is no room for any other thought. There is only the constant desire to rid oneself of pain. I believe that the constant state of pain that the ponies of Equestria underwent was a main contributor to their inaction.

Yet after a while, I came to see that pain was not the only reason for the lack of rebellion. The root of the problem was much deeper than that. I think that Plato, the poet and philosopher, gave an allegory that very well fits their situation. Every city other than Canterlot was a cave with only a dim, dying fire in the center. And all the ponies were chained to the walls of the cave and restrained, so that they never saw anything other than the dark cave wall in front of them and the shadows of those around them. All they knew that existed were the shadows and darkness. They did not mourn their small range of vision, because to them, that was all that the world truly contained. There was nothing else.

Year after year, in and out, I watched all this. And eleven generations passed under my watch. After eight hundred and eighty eight years had passed, I spoke for the first time since I was imprisoned and I lamented:

“I have observed all the oppression that takes place under the sun.

There is no hope or even desire for anything better.

The sun rises, and the sun sets. And it hurries back to where it rises.

Thus it has been and so it will be.

They see only the shadows.

The truth is hidden from them.

Lies are their truths and the truth is gone.

Knowing only lies, none yearn for truth.

There is nothing that has meaning.

All of their accomplishments are forfeit.

Nor is there any purpose in their lives.

They are slaves of Fear and Pain.”