The droplets of water was still landing upon the floor in this dilapidated room, while I sat upon this rubbish of a throne chair, gazing at nothing more than that blue moon through the broken ceiling that remained as the victim to my power. Oh, woe those sadden souls that once held dreams of saviours saving them from an inevitable force; even gods would fear still this day. It saddens me, for the pitiful moment I remain here, I still see that moon and the water still drips from the ceiling upon this crack and ruin floor. This place is morbid by the look of it and yet empty of life.
Never knew rulers would be so lonely, but who is to say I am alone at all? I have servants that will obey my command one thought at a second, even those who would wipe away any fool before my path and yet...am I lonely? No, nonsense, for who am I to be frown upon, let alone frown at with such pity that tears would not be enough to quiver my very existence. I earned this by myself, without miracles, prayers, or even the sole thought of talking to Celestia. No, I earned this by my very own palms.
Once, these palms bled to make a fine suit, now could wield powerful sorcery and swing a claymore with little stress put upon the wrist. Sometimes, I get very thrill when my cold steel gives off that beautiful glow, so incandescent and yet, ever so luminous, it makes me shiver at the sight of it. Merely just a cold thought in this dark cruel world, so bitter and pointless, it would require a better leader to lead it than see it wither to dust and ash. I happen, though, to have left it at home though, sad.
All those who were once my friends are no more than fading reminders of my obstacles, those I conquer without trouble. Trials I have beaten with superior records beyond anyone's recognition and liability in surviving in this miniscule world of faux peace. A world that could easily be mine if I had not the given merciful grace to bestow upon all before me. I, Rarity, Nightmare Rarity: One who had taken down the princesses and gained the powers of controlling chaos by ridding Discord's existence into the void, shall claim her rights as not a god of this world, no, but as an empress.
Why would be what I am not, for I fear not death, nor mortal riches which are acquired, instead I fear that some day and maybe any minute now I will be taken down by some brave warrior who will breach through these doors. A warrior who would break away from my charm and plunge a blade deep into my heart. The heart that remains so cold it is as hard as stone but fragile as ivory. Listen to me, so prepare and willing to die, what have I become in this time of age where a middle class mare became the world's most terrifying empress. As far as I would believe, down a spiral.
Perhaps I was fated to earn this throne and maybe I was also foreordained to rule the world; that or the Gods do exist and that I am forever blessed by the great power alone, provided by Nightmare Moon, but then again, she only awaken it, so that means that in time I could have awaken my inner power and took this kingdom anyway? No doubt, it was I who could control such power, greater than Luna, and even take all those that opposed me down. Theories are left with evidential facts, why not make up my own facts and make them absolute.
However, what about Sweetie Belle?
When I last saw her, she was with my former friends, along with Luna and Celestia, she looked destroyed when the two former rulers fell. Devastated. Heart broken. As if she only seen a monster than her sister. Sweetie Belle soon vanished after that and when she did...I felt this overwhelming sadness in my heart. Almost as if I lost something precious to me in this world, more than my formal life, more than my friends, and more than the trust of those I once loved. I lost my sister. And I could never get her back.
Strange, I would cry now, even if it means hiding away my tears from my minions, but I feel as if I am being watch. I glanced around the room for the source, tracking down the magical force that bestow upon its life and there, upon the ceiling's chandelier was a woman in a purple suit and mask wearing a fedora. I was in no mood for costumes and games, let alone some fool finding their way in here past my guards, so without warning, my palms glowed dark and I launched a hex spell towards the Chandeliers.
The small woman gasped and fell off backwards before teleporting when I noticed her glowing palms. The way they glow was light blue revealing an inexperienced sorcerer. When my attack hit the chandelier, it corroded away the metal before forcing it and part of the ceiling down to laden the floor almost going through it, just before the debris were later sizzling out dark smoke. None could match my Hex magic, nor could they even withstand my black pyromancy crafted from the darkness in space and the void which resided in my anger. This was my world, no one else's. To attack me is treason, so I shall punish thee for it.
When she reappeared, I noticed the ripples in the air and large specks of dust pushing aside around a pillar. Hiding from me was not the smartest of ideas, it only irritated me more. My palms were flowing with magic once more, the cold bridling coated dark flames never felt so vicious than they had before, but nonetheless, I was ready to destroy that pony that had a bright idea to spy on me. The suit looked familiar though.
I launched my Hex spell once more at the pillar seeking to tear right through it and when it did, carving through the stones without mercy and corroding away the molten polished rock, the fedora hat fluttered in the air beginning to burn so brightly as it slowly descended down. Like a fleeting dream or a drifting feather, it was burning so brightly, before it vanished in my sight, gone by the dark magic that ate away its fabric of existence. It was by then I realized the terror of my magic, it did not preserve but destroyed. It did not heal but injured. It conducted no benevolent miracle, but instead kept to a malevolent nature so peculiar and vile; twisted by the sense of power and cold-chilling madness. What have I become? A monster?
Someone who had no heart? Someone who would kill without regret or remorse? What could I really be called? Who would be left to call me anything for if there is something they need help with, I would be unable to provide them any of it, thus failing them, or even worse...hurting them? This was never like me from the start, no, I was generous, kind, loving, and enjoyed my life with my friends and Sweetie Belle. My life...my goodness...have I sunken so far down...I...
"Ugh!"
My heart paused for once, my breathing held in painfully, and the pain of a cold sharp steel going through my back and into my heart was so sudden and fast, I could still feel it pump painfully and slowly as I stare down at a sharp broadsword. I took a moment to find myself in an ironic position, where I stared back at the backstabber that caught me off guard and to my surprise...and...horror...
It was Sweetie Belle. Her eyes red with tears, her cheeks scratched up as if she was in plenty of fights, and most of all, that painful look of begotten shame cast before me in her hues. We both felt regret at the same time, but one of us had acted first. I could not be angry at her, frown, or even say much. She had gotten my heart, her blade gleamed brightly as if it was enchanted, and soon it was pulled out from my back.
I fell back, my body being so numb now yet caught in my sister's arms as I looked up and realize how she had gotten in. That torn ceiling where the moonlight shine upon in its intimidating beauty. In use of some bravado that laden upon us sorrow. I was dying, I was no prime being or empress, no, I was mortal and the moon shown that in my blind closure. Now clarity was before me, ever so cruel, but a tear drop would fall upon me this time, or would it be those droplets of water from the ceiling as I could only be presented a blurry vision.
It is a shame though, my fate taken by my own sister...or was it mercy? I shall never know...I am happy though, to see her safe, but we both know now, one of us is indeed going back home alone.
Gods...please....have mercy on her precious soul. May her first kill not taint her innocence. May she live...please...leave me here.
~Fin~
Author's Note
Comments, questions, all to be answer kindly. Tragedy is so delicious is it not?
