The Dark Mirror Saga: Book 1: The Tale of the Last Caribou

“What in the name of Celestia did I expect to find?” Twilight questioned herself as she walked through the empty hallways of the Castle. Aside from the dust and the clacking of her hoofsteps echoing all around her, her only company were the paintings, murals, and statues depicting mares in highly sexual situations. But her disgust had turned into pure rage as she looked up at the, surprisingly, mostly intact stained glass windows that once depicted the history of Equestria.

She knew they were fake, replacements of what was truly meant to represent. The glorious glass showcasing Celestia raising the sun? It had been bastardized in the most abhorrent way possible as it depicted Celestia, in chains, bowing, the sun also in chains, all in front of a group of caribou. Then came a crumbling depiction of the caribou subjugating Nightmare Moon and ‘purifying’ her into becoming Luna. Then she saw herself and her friends, shackled and bowing before the shackled Cutie Marks of Luna and Celestia.

Twilight wanted to scream and punch something, anything at the sheer insult she was witnessing. The other stained glasses weren’t any better. Discord wasn’t bowing, he was kneeling in front of a bigger, strong-looking caribou wearing a crown. Cadance was shown being raped by her own guards while her brother, Shining Armor, handed over the Crystal Heart to the same caribou from before. After that, nothing made sense and only depicted sexual degradation, conquest, and the vainglory of the species she was really, really starting to hate. Even Chrysalis was shown bowing before the same caribou, obviously either the king or a prominent hero of his kind.

The last stained glass window was by far the worst. It only showed the caribou standing over the shackled Cutie Marks of the Princesses while she held the Crystal Heart, reshaped somehow into the shape of a penis - a Crystal Cock, she realized. Whilst in the other hand he held up a warhammer.

But above the caribou, a single word was depicted. His name. Dainn.

“Dainn,” Twilight repeated the name, all but spitting it with poison in her lips. Looking down, she read the inscription below the glass’ frame. “Oh Glorious King Dainn, Savior of all Males. Glory be to You, Alpha Male, Bringer of the Enlightenment that is Male Superiority. Thanks be to You, Wise One beyond compare. You who brought true Harmony into our lands. Hail King Dainn. Hail Male Superiority. Hail True Harmony!” She whispered each word, afraid that it would somehow invoke the vile creature to her.

“...So Equestria truly was conquered and this so-called King Dainn defeated Celestia? How? She’s an Alicorn. She’s not invincible but no one can stand up against an alicorn and expect to win so easily. Besides that, how did the caribou conquer Equestria? Where were the Royal Guards? The Army? Surely, ponies would’ve fought against this darkness…,” her eyes shifted to the mural depicting her brother and frowned. “Shining Armor would’ve never betray Equestria or the Crystal Empire. He was not only a Captain of the Guard, but a Prince and a Commander. Every depiction of the caribou shows they don’t have wings. How were they able to defeat pegasi in combat? How was Dainn able to defeat Celestia if he couldn’t fly?”

She was now glaring up at the stained glass and more specifically, she was glaring at Dainn. Her horn lit up with magic and for a moment she thought about shattering it. But at the last moment she relented and looked away. “The savior of Equestria and the ‘Liberator’ of all males, eh? I wonder what other atrocities you and your wretched kind committed, Dainn.”

Turning away from the glass, she continued her travel, knowing that the throne room was at the end of the hallway. “I’ve seen enough… after I see the throne room I’ll leave and never return to this forsaken land,” she said to herself. It was strange and terrifying at the same time. She wanted to cry and also felt relieved that her home didn’t share the same horrible fate this Equestria had suffered through. She was incredibly angry at the caribou but was grateful that she had never heard of them until now. All she knew for sure was that she wanted to leave and never return.

Surprisingly, the gates leading to the throne room were mostly intact as only a few chunks of the wooden frames were missing. Using her magic, she opened them and let herself inside the throne room proper. Parts of the ceiling were missing, rubble was scattered all over the floor, the entire left wall had collapsed, and the stairway leading to the throne was cracked and dented. Puzzlingly, though, every last single stained window was shattered completely. Not even the border frames remained; only pieces of broken glass lying on the floor were all that remained, further shattered into a puzzle that couldn’t be solved.

Whoever shattered the windows had a particularly strong hatred towards them, she thought as she approached the throne… or what remained of it. Once she was close enough, her eyes widened and a whine of pain left her throat. “NO!” She cried out and rushed to the throne. In her desperation, she fell twice but she didn’t care. Not until she stood in front of the throne.

It wasn’t Celestia’s throne, that was certain. It had been replaced with a wooden one that, perhaps in the past, was fit for royalty. Now it was half rotted away, crumbling, and neglected to the point that even the paint and varnish had decayed. However, that wasn’t what watered her eyes and ignited pure rage inside her stomach. Atop the throne four distinct horns adorned it. White, dark blue, pink… and lavender.

She was staring at the horns of the four Princesses. “AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” She cried out, enraged, her horn sparkling with uncontrolled energy as she stared through misty eyes at the horns that belonged to her and her fellow alicorns. Turning her head away for a moment, she shot a beam of pure magical energy through one of the many holes in the ceiling. When it ended, she punched the throne with barely contained might. “What is this monstrosity? This… this is a nightmare… a Nightmare Throne. What sort of monster would cut off the horns of an alicorn, let alone four!?” She hit it again. “Are these trophies!? Displayed in a sick, twisted sense of superiority!?” Again, she hit it and then… she fell to her knees, crying her heart out.

Twilight remained there, crying for what felt like hours, days… years. Sadness, grief, anger, and frustration mixed and collided in an ever-twisting storm raging inside her heart.

“They were trophies… once, a long, long time ago. Not anymore.”

Twilight shot up instantly, turning back and taking a defensive stance as the cold, lifeless, emotionless voice from behind her spoke up. She half expected to find nothing there, but instead, she found a shadowy figure covered entirely in ragged robes that only allowed a pair of hands to show. She shuddered despite the sudden fright after seeing those pale, almost translucent, boney hands. Looking up at the hood proved to be no less frightening as the only feature she could see in the ‘face’ of the creature were two glowing, icy blue eyes that blinked lazily every now and again.

“Who… what are you?” She asked softly. The figure moved and she took a step back, ready to either strike or flee if it did anything strange.

“Does it matter?” The figure replied, completely uninterested. “I am nobody.”

Twilight stared at the figure as it advanced towards the throne. Now that the initial spook had passed, she was able to notice the little details, such as the small protrusions on the figure’s hood, the off cane or walking stick it was using, and the voice. By Celestia, the voice! It was raspy, incredibly so, and devoid of emotion to the point that it was cold, devoid of any warmth or joy. Ghostly, almost ethereal, and coming less as something spoken and more as something fake trying to speak. It was similar to telepathy, but outside her mind.

Twilight shuddered again, perturbed. In spite of it, however, she frowned as she felt anger return to her. “Are you a caribou?”

The figure turned to her, its blue, icy, lifeless eyes expressed no emotion and yet… they weren’t entirely dead either. What she knew for sure was that it was old, very old. Much older than Granny Smith or at least as old she was. She waited for several seconds for the figure to reply while it inspected her.

“Yes,” it finally replied. “The last one. But you already know this.”

Twilight blinked in surprise a few times as she watched the figure sit down on the throne. She expected groans and bones creaking as it sat down, but despite the apparent age it had, it didn’t seem to truly affect his mobility. A sudden and sickly feeling crawled up her spine and she felt dizzy for a moment. Her horn glowed and gritted her teeth. “Are you… Are you Dainn?”

“Ha…,” the figure let out with just a tinge of humor, his voice echoing all around the throne room. “Dainn is dead.”

“Then who are you?”

“For a ghost, you are awfully stupid. I guess that rules out dementia. Hmmm. I was hoping that was the case. An escape from this madness,” the figure, most definitely a he, said.

Twilight snorted and pointed a finger at him. “Don’t play games with me! Answer my question! If Dainn is dead, then who are you!?”

“Dainn is dead,” he repeated. “Only I remain.”

Twilight took a step forth, then another, and finally a third before slapping him across the face. “So you are King Dainn!”

The figure, Dainn, slowly turned his head forth, his wide open staring at the furious Twilight Sparkle in front of him staring at him with all the hatred, disgust, and disdain she could muster.

“Gaahhh!” Twilight yelped as a hand suddenly grabbed her shirt’s collarbone and dragged her forth until she was mere inches away from Dainn’s face, her eyes staring deeply into his icy blue ones.

A sigh, a raspy rumble in his throat, and a smack of lips reached her ears followed by a deathly, hollow, whisper. “Who are you?”