The tale of a chair and a young filly's magic lesson

The tale of a chair and a filly’s magic lesson

This is the story of His Royal Highness, King Alfred the Third. Or, put more simply, a simple oak chair with a nice, red, fluffy pillow on the seat. Alfred was a simple chair; he woke up every day to the plush (and rather fat if he might add) posterior of Princess Celestia herself seated on his lovely and exquisite pillow. He would listen in on the daily torments of the nobles and their (if he might also add) terrible court. Honestly, they would fret on the simplest things, such as where they should place one measly lamp (which would always end up somewhere in the garden, surprise, surprise) and wouldn’t even bat an eye at Discord, THE god of chaos himself, tearing up Equestria!

But moving on with his routine for the day, Alfred would then await for the princess to finish her breakfast and leave the room, where, once she had, he would talk with his friends, such as his trusty butler, Jonathan, or his only pony friend, sparkling interior. But today was different. Today was going to be quite an exhausting day for Alfred, as you’ll soon see. Instead of Celestia leaving as per schedule, her loyal student burst into the room, babbling out apology after apology for being a few seconds late. Such was this filly’s way, he supposed. Always punctual. Never late.

Naturally, Celestia forgave her student, who collapsed to the floor in relief. Quite an amusing sight, as Celestia would probably agree should he have talked to her. After a few minutes of getting up from the floor, and preparing a rune circle (it aids the young in tough spells, just FYI, or at least Alfred thought) they began their lesson. But the first words out of Celestia’s mouth would haunt any sentient toy, rock or furniture, in Alfred’s case.

“Let us study the art of temporary sentience” the princess said. This put Alfred in quite a fright, for this particular section of magic was never a comfortable experience for the sentient furniture kind. Alfred only knows this too well, having first-hand experience on this particular subject. Those were dark times, for all of chair kind… The lesson was going to be a dreadful one at that. For today, they were going to be testing their “dance energy” spell. Last time they tested that one on him, he was forced to dance all day long. Not a very comfortable experience, mind you. Alfred can vouch for that as well. Luckily, he was not to be the first test subject.

Unluckily however, it was Jonathan, the teapot, who was to be sacrificed to the unrelenting torture of dancing all day. The student charged her little horn full of mana, magicka, or whatever they call it, and shot a beam of… purple he supposed at Jonathan. And then the dancing began. Alfred and I won’t go into detain, for it was just too gruesome to re-tell. A few hours later of mastering this torturous spell (as Alfred and his kin thought of it) Jonathan was released from it. He tells Alfred later of the experience, much to Alfred’s chagrin.

But the lesson did not stop there, oh no. The purple unicorn student rounded on Alfred himself, and asked Celestia for permission to try out another type of spell: the conversationalist. Whilst this may not sound too bad, it is actually far, far worse. For this spell makes the object forced to talk and talk and talk. And it can be about anything: the object’s thoughts, how nice the weather is, or even its deepest, darkest secrets, such as crushes and that sort of thing. THAT is why objects feared this spell. No one likes their thoughts being told out loud to each and every person they know.

The spell was cast on him, after a minute or two of the filly charging her horn, and Alfred was forced to talk. He tried to fend off the urge to blurt out things that a young filly really shouldn’t know, but alas, t’was not to be. Soon, he found himself telling them of his deep love for Celestia’s “glorious” and “holy” posterior seated upon him every morning. Things went downhill from there. It went to things he knew of the filly doing at night (which will not be described here) to his dark fantasies of ravaging the princess. I have been asked by Alfred not to go into detail about that. I shall comply, but ONLY because he threatened me with no cookies for a week. Damn I love cookies.

Moving on though, once Alfred was out of things to say to the two, he once more became silent, and the other two calmly exited the room, albeit looking as red as Alfred’s very own prised fluffy pillow. A few hours passed, and soon the student and the alicorn fell into the realm of sleep. That is when the embarrassment truly began. Once the evening feast had been prepared by his hardworking chefs, and his subjects had gathered around the table, including sparkling interior, whom had the night shift of cleaning the room, they all immediately began questioning him of the words he had spoken a few hours ago. Needless to say, they all returned to their posts a shade more red than they had before.

Now that the day was finally over, King Alfred could get some rest, and erase the previous hours from his mind. Soon, he too had entered the realm of dreams. Only to somehow connect to the alicorn’s and filly’s dreams to “haunt” them. Alfred tells me he favoured the part in which he could sit atop Celestia’s hind quarters. No, not in that way, you filthy minded person, pony or chair. However, King Alfred's adventures within the dreamscape is a story for another time and another place.

THE END.