Back to the Past 01: Grave New World

The room glowed in yellow, orange, red and gold. The walls, the ceiling and the chandelier were all made from the most intricately carved and assembled pieces of natural amber, and the light filtering through this precious material cast an almost magical ambiance upon everything within. Satin cloth covered an ornate mahogany table. Upon this rested a tea set of fine bone china.

Lying couchant upon a silk cushion was a being of equine conformation, though anyone seeing her for the first time might understandably feel confused about her exact species. Though similar in many respects to the common ponies of the realm, she was a giant, double the size of an average mare (and, according to the law of cubic volume, presumably eight times the average weight—though only the most foolish would ever have mentioned this within earshot). Her coat was salmon-pink, and her large wings, folded by her side, shaded into azure blue at their tips. Her mane and tail were streaked with the pastel colors of sunrise, and they constantly shifted as if wafted by some imaginary breeze. She was adorned with gold: hooves encased in gleaming sabatons, a peytral hung from her neck inset with a large amethyst, and a golden tiara with another amethyst sat upon her head. The spiral horn jutting from her forehead, far longer than that of any common unicorn, scintillated with sparkles of gold, and the delicate tinkling sound of magic filled the air. A teacup sparkled with the same color of magic as it floated in front of her, and she delicately took a sip.

On the other side of the table sat an earth pony of normal stature, although her frame was lean, ribs easily counted, and she wore only a tatty cloak of butternut brown. Sitting upright, she balanced a teacup with some difficulty between her trembling fore-hooves, and managed to take a sip.

“What do you think of the tea?” prompted the larger pony.

The smaller one replied, “It’s good, I guess.” Her belly grumbled, and her eyes drifted to the cookies lying on a dish, untouched. She would not take one unless the Empress did.

“It’s my favorite, although it could be a bit fresher,” the pink giantess continued. She turned to a unicorn pony near her side, this one wearing a fine blue satin coat. “Which reminds me… Day Planner, isn’t the latest shipment of tea from Inaria overdue?”

He nodded. “I believe it is, Ma’am.”

“Send the Inarians a reminder of what will happen if I fail to receive my tribute, would you?”

“I shall, Ma’am.”

She turned her attention to the earth pony once again and commented, “You showed great courage and initiative in coming to my court, uninvited, to bring your problems to me directly.” Her look was not happy, and the tone of her voice leaned more toward accusation than praise.

The earth pony set down the teacup and bowed her head. She said, “Oh great Empress Sceleste, my people are desperate. Griffins have come down from the mountains and attacked our villages. They take our food, they take anything of value they can carry, and they burn our homes. They even take ponies, or kill them. We have no way to fight back. At first they only attacked the smaller villages, but they’ve been getting bolder, and more of them come each time.”

Sceleste’s eyes narrowed. “And this is my problem because?”

The pony pleaded. “We’ve been loyal to you! Our valley is fertile, and we send as much food as we can to your cities, as you have commanded. We send most of what we grow; there’s barely enough left to feed our own people—and now the raiders are taking our food stores.  We’re starving!”

Sceleste sneered, “After I’ve allowed you to live in my lands, in my fertile valley, this is the gratitude you show?” Then the empress raised a pastern to her brow, and then pitched her voice higher to speak in a sarcasm-laced falsetto: “Oh Sceleste, you have to save us from those mean old griffins because we’re too lazy and selfish to look after ourselves.”

The earth pony’s voice cracked as she begged, “Please, we’ll do anything you want!”

The empress rolled her eyes. “And now the waterworks are about to start. How pathetic.”

True enough, the little pony began to sob as she choked out, “What… What am I going to tell everypony when I go home?”

The empress stood up and said, “You can tell them how lucky you are to return with your hide still attached. And you can tell them…” She paused for a moment, then smiled. “Tell them they need to prove their love for their empress. Every month they will raise a new statue to honor me. If their work is sufficiently impressive, then I’ll see about reigning in those rowdy griffins.” Then, as an afterthought she added, “And keep food shipments flowing to the city, or else!” She turned and strode out of the room, and Day Planner followed.

They had hardly ventured down the broad hallway of the palace before a commotion was heard echoing through its walls: clattering of hurried hooves and angry shouts. The empress perked up her ears to overhear:

“Halt!”

“Head him off!”

“Stop that old fool before he gets to…”

A pony came skidding around the corner of an intersecting hallway. He was wild-eyed, mane and tail unkempt and streaked gray with age, goat-like beard trailing from his chin, fetlocks unshorn. Two guards, golden armored, were hot on his tail. One of them leapt forward and tackled the old stallion, slamming him onto the floor. The other guard skidded to a halt, the rug bunching up under his hooves. His eyes went wide as he spotted, “…the empress!”

The old stallion pinned to the floor wheezed, “Beware the colt!”

Frowning, one foreleg lifted tentatively, Sceleste demanded, “What is the meaning of this? Who is this pony?”

“I’m sorry, Empress! We tried to keep him out,” said the guard who was still upright.

“Hmm, we can discuss your failures later. Answer my question!”

“The colt! Beware the colt in shining armor!” cried the old pony again, more loudly.

Day Planner cleared his throat. “If I may… I believe this old soothsayer has been seeking an audience with you for several days. He was turned away, of course, to spare Your Greatness from his incoherent ramblings.”

“Let him up! Let me hear his message!” She stepped forward as the guard withdrew and allowed the old stallion to stand.

He looked around, then blinked his cataract-clouded eyes upward at the empress, as if reluctant to believe he’d finally reached her. Then he said, “The gods granted me a vision. A warning! Only a colt clad in shining armor can strike you down. Only the colt can end your rule. This I saw.”

Day Planner stepped forward and exclaimed, “Preposterous! You see, this old geezer is addled in his brains. Pay him no heed!”

Empress Sceleste chuckled good-naturedly. “Heheh… Of course, I see.”

Day Planner snapped an order to the guards. “Take him away! Put him in a cell for a while to keep him out of trouble!”

“Throw him to the manticores!”

Day Planner blinked. “What?”

Sceleste looked to him and repeated herself, slowly and deliberately. “Throw. Him. To. The. Manticores.”

“Err… Of course, Ma’am. The manticores.” He turned to the guards. “You heard Her Greatness. Take him to the arena!” The guards nodded grimly and began dragging the old soothsayer away. Muttering to himself, he hardly seemed aware of the doom that he’d just been sentenced to.

Sceleste said, “Come, Day Planner! Let us enjoy the sumptuousness of my gardens for a while.” She resumed her walk down the hallway, and Day Planner fell in beside her. As they made their way to the garden, she asked him, “What did you think of the old soothsayer’s warning, I wonder?”

“Poppycock! Pure rubbish!”

“But did you listen carefully?”

His ears drooped nervously. “I… I tried my best not to, Your Greatness.”

“Pity. If you had, you might have noticed that he did not foretell my end. He said, ‘Only the colt clad in shining armor can strike you down.’ If those words are true, then I have nothing to fear from any other threat. And even the colt he spoke of is not preordained to defeat me. It is merely a possibility, and one that I am now forewarned against.”

Day Planner pondered that for a moment, then asked, “Do you think it’s a true prophecy, then?”

“I am not sure yet. Some research is in order. Such pronouncements are not to be taken lightly. And if his words are sooth, then he may have done me a great service.”

“I see. So… Shall I have him released from the arena?”

Sceleste laughed lightly. “Oh, heavens no! After he spoke openly of my downfall? Leave him to his fate!”