The Timeless Chronicle

The lights gather, forming mostly darkness. Then a slit of light appeareth. Wait. Appears. How long have I been thinking this way? The previous scene has rally messed with my mind.

A door opens and in comes no other than the Mistress herself. Backwards? She takes a brass sniffer, and moonwalks, as the younger generation would call it, towards what I imagine the walls of this room are. She stands up on her hind legs and lays the sniffer on a torch. Then she pulls it up. The torch is lit. She proceeds in the same manner all around the room, and soon enough, the room is well lit.

It appears to be a throne room. The Throne Room. This is the place I have died in. Or will. Where I will have died someday. It has only been a few days hasn't it. Time passes differently in the place I am now.

I look at the room. It is ready for the ceremony that is to take place here. I know, I have planned it out myself, and this looks close to how I would have done it. Would have. The ceremony is going to pass as follows: The Princess will wait on her throne. The heralds will announce nobility incoming from different lands. They will be seated at the hoof shaped, with the most important closest to the thrones, and the less important further away. After all will be read off, the gates would open for the common folk to take it's place on the two sides of the table, on the benches. Then Princess Celestia will stand up and recite a speech to welcome the people of all Equestria's allied nations. She will descend the stairs to join the nobles at the feast.

The materials on the next parts were a little bit uncertain on the next account, but there was some unrest, which was to be expected. Foreign dignitaries were presented to the common Canterlot folk for the first time.

I look at the room. It is just as I imagined. No wonder there though, I have researched the event a lot, before beginning to organize it. And now the mare was changing it. Well, maybe not changing, it what I see is the latest standpoint of the chamber.

The temporal shenanigans seem obvious considering what the Mistress is doing. She is going backwards, correcting the position of everything on the tables and then picking it up, from time to time dusting something off with a handkerchief, leaving it more dusty than before. This time is reversed.

The Mistress is taking the tablecloth off the tables, and then picking up the tables putting them down with much more strain than she has been lifting them, in the corner of the room.

The floor is dusty, and full of chalk drawings, concealed just a moment before, by the tables. The chalk lines seem to gravitate towards the center under the room, but most of it is covered by a thin red carpet.

Mistress is finished with taking off the paintings from the walls, revealing even more lines. She turns towards the walls, and moonwalks towards the center of the room.

The carpet is lifted.

Underneath there is a huge entanglement of chalk lines and symbols, most of which I cannot even recognize. However the ones I can send a shiver down my spine. I can see runes imbuing immobility, a huge amount of different wound inducers, as well as a sign for awareness. If chalk could talk, this one was blaspheming in ways I could not have imagined existed. Before me, generalizing, is spelled out the wish for someone to die a horrible and painful death, without even the solicitude of unconsciousness.

The honest-looking mare trots carefully into it's middle, pulls a piece of chalk and starts drawing. Un-drawing. She moves the chalk along the lines present, and they vanish. She is the one who did all of this. She is the one to blame for such a horrible curse. And I know of it, but am in no power to do anything about it.

I know the mare is more than one would suspect, she has shown this already last time I have seen her. Well, last time for me. I wonder when this is for her.

I know she is capable of much more than any pony I know, in matters of villainy. She has goons, she had someone beaten unconscious. She is evil, I get that. But this? Who could have caused her this amount of pain that she has to eradicate in this way. How could anyone sane allow for such?

I silently watch as the patterns slowly foil themselves, as she gets further and further away from the center, up until none of the symbols are left. She steps up, and walks to the middle of the room, stands still for a time and starts putting everything back onto its respective place. The room looks untouched, everything is exactly where it has been before she came in.

Mistress takes the sniffer out once again, and lights a torch in her hand. She makes a lap around the room, and putting the torch to each one hanging on the walls, extinguishes them, one after another. The room is dark again, with the only light source being the open door. She moonwalks towards it, and stops in the door frame, now but a shadow in the light.

The door closes. Lights begin to appear.