Trouble. They’d almost forgotten how to appreciate the deep roots and meaning of that particular word. It was as if time had taken it out of its proper context, wrenched it through a fantastical machine of sorts, and then hurled it forward once more. Trouble was all she knew…all anypony knew, really. It had been 500 years since King Sombra had dethroned Princess Celestia and taken over Equestria. 500 years since The Wars of the Sombraic Revolution…or, at least, that’s what the propagandized history books called it. Most ponies simply referred to it as hell, or some personalized interpretation of it. The time had gone by slowly and all the brave ponies who’d survived those fights had long since died away.
Sombra’s leadership proved effective at both keeping opposing nations out and keeping his enslaved subjects in. He even went so far as to rename the fallen Canterlot to Lornstown. Nopony was allowed to do anything in this society. Every single day was exactly the same. A typical stallion would awaken in the morning to a sky overpowered with magical smog, something that King Sombra had invented to blot away the sun. He didn’t want anypony looking towards the celestial orb and thinking of their former ruler, now in exile in a location undisclosed to anypony. Not even Sombra himself knew where she was. She and her sister, Princess Luna, had hidden themselves away, refusing to shed any more blood in defense of what had become indefensible.
Digressions aside, that smog greeted the aforementioned typical stallion when he tumbled out of bed. Each male citizen of Equestria was required to work in one of two places, either the salt mines or the gold quarries. Every speck of salt was sold to profit Sombra, as was every ounce of gold. Hour after hour, day after day, the stallions worked in conditions that some described as being worse than war itself. They were often mired deep in mud, and some came down with harsh diseases. They were not allowed to be treated, but forced to return and work all the harder. Little did they know it, but their efforts contributed to the magical smog that blotted the sun and sky.
King Sombra had also decreed that all ponies should live as equals beneath him. Therefore, he sapped all magic from unicorns and the power of flight from pegasi. This meant that all the workers in his quarries and mines had to do things by hoof. This took hours longer and, under the watchful eye of their brutal taskmasters, nopony was allowed any sort of break. Everypony had to work for 12 hours before returning home, snarfing down whatever morsel of food was available, and heading for bed to repeat the cycle the next day. It was all work and no play and, needless to say, it made for some very dull, dreary-eyed stallions.
Life was not any more pleasant for the mares under Sombra’s rule. No mare was allowed to work, as Sombra considered mares to be second class citizens. They also had to donate half of whatever food they had to the king’s personal storehouses. That went for all food, so if a family only had half a haycake left, they had to give it up when the king’s collectors came around. Mares were expected to cook, marry, have kids, and do nothing more, just as the stallions were expected to endlessly work and do nothing more. The magical smog weighed heavily on families, to be sure, but the rule that kept them locked in their stereotypical positions was much worse. There were many families with bright eyed colts and fillies who could never achieve their dreams under Sombra’s tyrannical rule.
Blood and death were regular occurrences. The brutality of the taskmasters in Sombra’s wicked workforce combined with starvation and extreme poverty to create a society where funerals became quite common. Even then, ponies weren’t allowed to mourn for very long. The stallions got a morning off work and the mares were given permission to leave their homes for the same time. Most dead bodies were taken by undertakers, commissioned by Sombra, and flung into pits. But before this was done, the ultimate disgrace of postmortem decapitation took place. These heads Sombra kept as trophies in rooms all over his castle.
Life was miserable, and it only got worse. Sombra, though extremely long in the tooth, could not battle with the Grim Reaper. So, 200 years after taking the throne, he died and his son, King Lithra, took his place. Lithra was just as evil as his father, exacting more tributes and more deaths from the ponies beneath him. The practice of the gruesome trophy collecting continued as well. Then, after a rule similar in length to his father, Lithra passed and King Bosha came to power. His evil was the same as his father and his grandfather, though he took it a step further. He began experimenting on ponies, dragging them from their homes to try and perfect a scientific formula that he’d been working on since colthood. For him, everypony was a test subject and everyone had their own price to pay…
“That’s not fair, Twilight!” Young Bright Light said as she chased her sister across their small yard in Lornstown. “You’re so much bigger than me!”
Twilight Sparkle stopped and turned to look at her younger sibling. “Come now, Bright Light. You shouldn’t give up just because I’m bigger than you. I mean, really. I’m definitely not the tallest pony around.”
“Maybe not,” Bright said, “but you sure are the smartest!”
Twilight blushed a bit as her sister came and nuzzled her. “Oh, you know I’m not.”
“Yes, you are!” Bright argued. “You scored the highest on your tests at school, didn’t you?”
“Well…yes,” Twilight said, “but remember what Mom and Dad said. We don’t talk about those results.”
“Oh…” Bright said, nodding her small head. “Because of-“
“Yes, Bright, because of you know what,” Twilight whispered, leaning down. “They could be anywhere.”
“But, I don’t see what the big deal is,” the young filly squeaked. “Why shouldn’t you celebrate having the best scores in school?”
“Because, Bright,” Twilight said as she sat on the ground across from her sister. “They could…come…”
“…and take you?”
“That’s right. Those scores tell King Bosha the smartest in the land, so that he can come and take them away.”
“I wonder what he does to those ponies,” Bright Light queried as she used a hoof to dab at a small blade of grass.
Twilight gulped. “I pray you never find out, my darling sister.”
Suddenly, Twilight felt a need to be near her small sibling. So, she maneuvered beside her and pressed against her. The warmth of Bright Light’s fur was nice, but it was even nicer to have her plucky young spirit right there. There was great exploratory potential within this spirit, yet also a dangerous want to go beyond the boundaries set for them. Twilight loved Bright Light dearly. Ever since her elder brother, Shining Armor, had been killed in one of Bosha’s pointless wars, she and Bright had become extremely close. In a sense, Twilight felt that it was them against a very cruel world that had decreed their lives to be useless.
“Twilight?” Bright’s small voice asked as she tugged on Twilight’s mane.
“Yes, my sister?”
“Will King Bosha ever stop being king?”
“I’m afraid not, little one,” Twilight said in a sad voice.
“So…we’re always gonna be like this?”
“I hope not, Bright,” Twilight said, “I certainly hope not.”
Twilight and Bright Light spent their days at school and at home, doing what mares were supposed to do under the tyranny of the kings of Equestria. They cooked and cleaned and did all manner of housework. While at school, they learned from the propagandistic titles of books written by those hoof chosen to tell Equestria’s history…or, at least, Sombra and his line’s version of it. Since history’s victors very often are put in the position of storyteller, this meant that entire generations of ponies grew up without hearing of Celestia, Luna, or anything of the true Equestria. Sombra and his successors were the only ones written of. Each day, the small ponies were forced to sing the Equestrian “national anthem,” a horrific tune written by Sombra himself.
However, for Twilight and Bright Light, school was a place of escape. Home was hell as their mother and father were both severely overworked. The family patriarch, Night Light, often came home with bruises and lashings from where his supervisors had beaten him. Meanwhile, their mother, Twilight Velvet, very often suffered from diseases due to poor living conditions. Even Twilight and Bright Light had felt the sting of this wicked time. Twilight, in particular, had nearly died when a severe case of the pony pox swept through Lornstown. Life played a sharp game with the sisters, as Bright caught the pox from Twilight, but did not experience it at quite the same level. So, while her sister lay near death, Bright was forced to watch, knowing that she was carrying the same disease.
Thankfully, both sisters recovered and now enjoyed a place of scholastic honor. While Bright had always looked up to Twilight and envied her brain, she was no academic slouch. Each sibling made good to great grades and always received commendations from their teachers. Though these came as welcome events, Twilight and Bright Light always knew that there was more to Equestria’s story than what they were told. Though they knew nothing of Celestia and Luna, it seemed that they shared a connection with the old rulers. The sisters of Lornstown were benevolent, kind, and amiable to everyone they met. Twilight taught Bright the importance of being a good friend to everypony, even if they had to do it in secret. It seemed to be the only way to survive the cruel world that they found themselves in.
One day, as they were heading home from school, Bright noticed a pony trotting along wearing nothing but rags. It was a tan mare, of average height, and she carried a sandy, tousled mane. Her eyes were cast downwards and she looked as if she would keel over any second. It was one of those moments where one knows the plight of somepony else, even without knowing them personally. The severity of the emotional cart that this mare now pulled was striking. Her legs trembled as she maneuvered herself down the sidewalk, looking more and more pitiful as the seconds rolled by. It tore into young Bright Light’s heart to see someone so down and distressed.
“Twilight?” She asked as she suddenly stopped.
“What is it, Bright?” Twilight asked, looking down at her sister.
“What’s wrong with that mare?”
Twilight looked up and saw the disheveled soul. “I’m afraid…well…that she doesn’t have a home.”
Bright’s mouth dropped open. “But…everyone needs a home!”
“I know, Bright,” Twilight said. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t always happen. King Bosha has made it very difficult for ponies to be able to afford their homes. We’re very fortunate to still have a roof over our heads, especially considering the beatings dad takes every day.”
“Well…can we help her?”
Twilight smiled. “I suppose we can at least offer her a smile and a kind word.”
Bright lit up and darted across the street to where the elder mare was turning into an alley. The young pony chirped a greeting as she ran up to her and then stopped. Suddenly, Bright felt somewhat eerie. Here was somepony who was absolutely at the end of their rope, yet they continued to keep going. On the one hoof, this was admirable. On the other, she was now in an alley with somepony she didn’t know who was obviously hauling an emotional weight that was inconceivable. Bright wondered how the elder homeless mare would respond to her…would she be kind? Would she receive her nicely?
“Um…hello,” Bright repeated. “My name’s Bright Light…what’s yours?”
“Does it matter…?” Came the ragged answer.
Meanwhile, Twilight arrived out of breath. “Bright Light, please don’t ever dart across the road like that! There was heavy taxi traffic! You could’ve gotten hurt!”
“Sorry, sis,” Bright said, blushing a bit in the dark. “But, I was just talking with my new friend, here!”
“Friend?” The raspy homeless pony asked. “I haven’t had a friend in a very, very long time.”
“Pardon me,” Twilight said, “but…is there any way we can help you?”
Suddenly, the homeless one whirled on them. “There is no help, don’t you get it?! No help is coming! King Sombra’s line dominates the land…no help…none…just none…it’s worthless…hopeless…”
“What’s worthless?” Bright asked.
The old mare didn’t seem to hear her. “…the quest…is gone…diminished…faded…”
“What quest?” Twilight asked.
The mare then turned up and looked them dead in the eye. “The quest that I’ve been on for nearly 500 years!”
Twilight’s eyes nearly bugged out. “You…you’re…”
“You’re darn right, I’m that old!” The mare growled, “and I don’t wanna make a big scene out of it, either! Fact is, I was cursed to live to this age…cursed by that darned sorceress…”
“Wait-wait-wait-wait,” Bright said, “what curse? What sorceress?”
The mare gave them another look. “What does it matter to you, anyway? I ain’t never seen you before in my life.”
“Well,” Bright said, “we just saw you from across the road. You looked really upset. I just thought…maybe…”
“Yeah, well, ya thought wrong!” The mare thundered. “Now, go away. Nopony else has ever given me the time of day. Why should you? I’m worthless! I’m nopony! I’m a homeless hag in rags that’s hated by all of this wicked, repulsive city! So, why don’t you do me a favor and leave me be?”
“Because that’s not what friends do,” Bright said.
“…friends…” The elderly one said in a voice that was almost in tears. “I remember when Equestria had friends…and laughter…and the princesses…”
