The simple wooden sign gave warning to the dangers beyond it:
Equestra
Horseshoe Pits
The pits were cut into flat grassland outside the castle proper. The grass was kept utterly pristine and was unyieldingly green. The magnificently blue sky was bright and cloudless, the sun shining harshly on the location of the upcoming battle. Perfectly cut hedges surrounded it, cutting it off from the rest of the castle grounds. The pits were exactly ten tail-lengths from each other, each with a whitewashed steel rod buried in the center.
Two figures stood facing each other. One was a unicorn, the other was a minotaur.
“Nopony speaks with the princesses unless they defeat me,” Raven said to the minotaur dignitary. Her black hair whipped against her face in the harsh wind as her steely gaze locked with his.
The cream colored mare was half the size of the minotaur, but radiated an air of confidence and prowess. Her brown eyes should have been warm, but the set of her jaw made them look dangerous and calculating. Her immaculately kept hooves glistened with menace.
The minotaur looked at her with confusion. “A contest to be allowed to meet with the rulers of this land? No nation restricts their foreign diplomats in such a way. Do the Diarchs believe this isolationism to be good for their relations with the world?”
The minotaur’s red fur contrasted dramatically with his black horns and legs. The designs on his nose ring proclaimed his position, ancestry, and achievements in magically hardened gold. Around his neck was a paisley scarf done in the browns and golds of the Minotaur Confederacy.
“Only the worthy may approach Their Highnesses,” Raven responded in a low growl, her stance becoming threatening. “If you do not have the skill to defeat me, you are unworthy to speak with them.”
“Worthiness determined by a contest steeped in barbarism?” the minotaur responded as he backed away from the threatening form of Celestia’s chief secretary and pit master. “I know of the implements of torture used in this so called game.”
Raven stepped forward, slowly forcing the minotaur to back up past the warning sign and closer to the pits. Her horn, sharpened to a wicked point, was lowered towards his gut, less than five hooves from disemboweling him. On a nearby stand glinted the implements of torture necessary for playing this ‘game.’ They were made of steel and painted in the royal colors; two were golden and two were royal blue. He could tell that they were cleaned and repainted after each barbaric contest.
“To turn away a diplomat for their unwillingness to play such a barbaric game is madness.” The minotaur was growing even more nervous and began breathing heavily. Sweat formed on his brow.
A lone cloud drifted over the sun, darkening the field of battle. Looking closely, he could see a grey pegasus mare sitting atop it, a bloodthirsty smile on her face.
“Madness?” Raven responded with dangerous calmness, brushing a stray lock of mane away from her eyes.
“...This Is Equestra!” Raven shouted as she spun, coiled her body, and bucked the minotaur in the stomach.
Time slowed as the minotaur lost his balance and fell backwards. The minotaur watched as Raven turned around to see her hoofwork. Far, he fell, the bottom of the pit growing nearer. He stared up at the sky and wondered how many other diplomats met this same tragic fate.
The sun shone brightly in his eyes as he hit the sand covered bottom, just missing the metal spike in the center.
As he stood, Raven tossed two iron horseshoes into the sand at his feet.
The minotaur shook his head, resignation etched in his face as he picked up the horseshoes, examining the holes where the nails would be hammered into the hoof to hold them in place. He stepped to the far side of the pit and squared himself with the pit on the other side of the grassy field.
“May I ask why is there no ‘I’ in Equestria?” the minotaur asked as Raven lined up her shot.
“Sign painter’s mistake,” Raven replied with a smirk. She launched her first shoe straight and true, spinning around the post before settling to the sand.
“And you’re pronouncing it that way because?” The minotaur threw his own, which went wide, almost missing the pit altogether.
“Tradition.” Raven smirked as she got ready for her second shot. “Supposedly, it started as teasing, but we’ve been doing it for so long that I can’t imagine pronouncing it correctly while at the pits.”
Her second shot tapped the pin and flew to the edge of the pit.
The battle was fierce. The sound of metal against metal rang throughout the castle grounds. Shoe hit shoe as each attempted to knock away the opponent's implements. While the minotaur started out badly, he quickly gained mastery and made up his lost ground.
Celestia’s sun beat down on them mercilessly as it drifted overhead despite the clouds pulled in by the crowds of pegasi.
The excited chatter of the pegasi drifted down as the combatants fought horn and paw.
Four alicorns sat atop the battlements, observing the events unfolding beneath them.
“And this is really how you deal with new diplomats?” Twilight asked the other three princesses.
“Verily,” Luna affirmed. “Dost thou not like observing games of skill?”
“Well, yes, but I think the minotaur has a point...” Twilight trailed off, distracted by a sudden realization. “What is the minotaur’s name?”
“Does it matter?” Celestia asked with an innocent looking smile.
“I think I’ll call him Eye Candy,” Cadance offered, her eyes watching the ripple of the minotaur’s muscles as he threw his horseshoe.
The minotaur gave a snort and a fist-pump of victory as his toss knocked Raven’s shoe off of its leaning position on the stake. Raven smiled calmly as she snuck a glance at the minotaur’s hindquarters.
At long last, a victor arose; Raven stood over the kneeling form of the minotaur.
“You have failed,” she decreed. “I have won. Accept your defeat with honor and look me in the eyes.”
The minotaur retrieved the horseshoes and stood back up. With grim acceptance, he looked the pony in the eyes and nodded.
“There is one way that you may redeem yourself; swear to me that you will tell no one of this.” Raven’s voice was filled with an authority that brooked no argument. “And you shall have a rematch.”
“I swear by the teats of Gaia,” the minotaur vowed.
“Good.” Raven smiled her first genuine smile. Which of the princesses would you like your rematch to be against?”
The four alicorns landed gracefully in front of the defeated diplomat.
“Well fought, young minotaur,” Luna greeted with a smile as Cadance surreptitiously wiped some drool from the corner of her mouth.
Author's Note
