Once upon a time, there was a guardspony with a black coat. They sang of his prowess on the battlefield. His bravery and courage was unmatched, and he was valiant and noble. Tales of his feats were next to unmatched. Yet he was also dark, mysterious, and alluring.
Whenever he came back to the Canterlot proper, all the ladies would squabble pettily, trying to get a glimpse of his enigmatic figure. And when they did, they would swoon and squeal. Every so often, one of them would faint. The gentlemen would all start their idle gossip then, wondering what that guardspony had done that they had not. But somedays, few ponies would be there to see him, if at all.
His name was Valor, and yet, his unstainable coat was stained so deeply, that he could never quite get rid of it. He had a flaw too. For all his mystery, his heart could and would only ever belong to one. Nopony knew, and it was kept that way, for behind his exploits was something deeper and darker.
There was another, just like him. Shining Armor he was called. Absolute genius in his own right. Rose through the ranks lickety split, yet was always considered too naive to see the front lines. It became more of a blessing than a curse for Shining Armor. For him, it meant that he didn’t have to hide in broad daylight. That he could be publicly seen, especially by the one that he had begun to love.
Shining Armor was the prince of legend. He solved all the problems with a kind and just hand. And then, when all was nigh, he rescued the princess from the evil grasps of the evil queen, Chrysalis. Of course, after the fact, they had a happy marriage. It didn’t matter that his sister was the one responsible for the possibility of hope, or that he was fool enough to ignore her sister. The fact remained was that he was now a celebrity that was also royalty that was also head of the guard.
And so Valor could do nothing but watch as Shining Armor took his vows along with Cadance. The darker part of him, the one that he kept suppressed for his sanity, wished that Chrysalis had succeeded, but he couldn’t wish that. His love was much deeper. The best for Cadance was not a land where love was sucked out like a spider draws from the web, but a happier one, with a fool that was blessed. So he just turned around, and walked away, knowing that to cause a scene would be a disgrace to everything he stood for, everything that he tried to protect, and sacrificed for.
But he just took it, letting it etch deep into the scars that had never quite healed. It never showed, and as Shining Armor began to settle down, engrossed with his family, the attention that had been sporadic before resumed. Time passed, and his scars began to stitch together, though not in the right ways. As always he stood, statuesque, for the security and peace of Equestria. As always he waited, for the chance that was the best for not only him, but Equestria. As always time passed, and he wasted away.
One day, Valor chanced upon a pool. Floating on the pond were loti, moving to the minute ripples caused by the gentle breeze. He stared into the pool, wondering what he would do, and where to go. As he stared, an image in the pool started to coalesce. Its deep, red, bitter eyes stared at him, causing him to recoil in shock. Then he stared more closely. It was a distorted monster. Only vaguely did it resemble a pony. The veiled simulacrum looked at him with the same guarded distaste that he stared at it with. Was he really like this, this twisted image in the pool? And just as the enemy corrupted Equestria, it corrupted him.
Doubt
As he walked away from the pool, the image stuck with him, the monster. Every time he slept, the monster reared its worn hooves to crush him, yet before they did, the hooves shattered, fragile as they were. Then he was awake sweating and crying and coughing. But he would always remember the eyes, dark and dull and lifeless. A shambling shell of what he was stalked his dreams, followed him down every alley.
Peace
That was his worst enemy. For just as he learned to fight and die, he began to lose everything else, one by one. What would be his purpose? All he knew was how to trample, how to destroy. When there was nothing left to break, where would he go? The smell of smoke and flame was not the sweet scent of flowers and grass and pie. The screams of pain and the cries of agony were not the singsong joy and the happy chatter that resonated through the peaceful marketplace.
So he would come back to the pool to stare. Every day he would discover something new that was different. A limp that he never realized he had was soon seen, and it bothered him to no end. He couldn’t do what he used to do, couldn’t see straight. His time was coming to an end.
One last time, he came by the spring. As he stared upon the black loti, he could feel the weight of his years evaporate off his chest. He felt himself drifting away, and started to close his eyes. When he did, there was nothing. All that was left was the envy and rage that he had kept suppressed for so long. Unbridled rage it was, that it began to plot against Shining Armor. It’s thick tendrils wrought corruption in the government, and one day, all they could find of Shining Armor was a single black lotus on his bed.
Yet the reign of terror didn’t end there, for even after the deed, the jealousy was not satisfied.
