The corridor had the texture and yellow colour of a bacterial growth. The thick carpet was a faint green with evidence of former lushness. Half-heartedly illuminating the passage were flickering light-bulbs. They emitted a sterile, white glow.
Traversing the passage were two ponies: one of them dwarfed, through no fault of his own, by the other. The other was large. Common sense would dictate that she should be unable to occupy the narrow passage. But even with her wings spread to their fullest extent she could not brush the walls. A nice touch, she thought, sister is insufferably considerate
After what seemed an eternity the two arrived at a door. Its only somewhat remarkable feature was a gold plate on its upper half reading: 319. It was average size. She wondered if she could even fit through it, but then recalled the logic defying ease of her journey thus far.
The tall mare looked behind her to find an almost immediate turn in the passage where there was none before. Paying his companion no mind, the stallion approached and opened the door.
They entered the room, as easily as she expected. It was more luxurious than the corridor implied. The light bulb in the centre of the ceiling was adorned by a glass cover and bathed the room in warm yellow light. The carpet was made of the same material as the corridor’s but clearly much younger in years judging by its colour. Occupying the room were three sofas arranged like a square without a fourth side. Their uniform size could easily accommodate the mare with room to spare. The only other objects in the room were a brown coffee table, a flower pot and a mirror. The room smelled recently cleaned.
The mare approached the table before stopping half way. She rubbed the carpet with her left hoof.
So this is my prison. I expected something much more… barren, she thought. She breathed in the lavenders’ far reaching scent. Does she really think isolation is sufficient? “Either dearest sister is the spineless ruler I knew her to be, or she truly has no idea of what punishment is,” she said.
“Most do think that,” said the stallion in a voice much too deep for a normal pony. Turning to speak to him the mare got a much better look at her escort. He had the stature of a royal guard, and their armour, too. It was, however, a pure white, not the regular gold. His physique, as well, was off. His height only served to make him look spindly. His eyes were blood-shot and sunk into his head. The pale flesh underneath his thin grey coat gave the impression of sickliness. It all added to the feeling that he should soon fall under the weight of his armour.
The mare stooped her neck, fixing an eye-to-eye glare on the guard. “‘Most’? Am I to take it that sister has done this before? That my actions were not extraordinary enough to merit a unique punishment?” She dropped her glare and straightened her neck. “I suppose I should not be complaining. This is much more pleasant than anything I would allow in her place.”
“There are neither beds nor kitchens for obvious reasons,” the guard said, ignoring her questions and statements. He turned to the open door. The door shut when he was on the other side.
Minutes, or what seemed like minutes, passed before the mare broke her sight from the door. The door, she had noticed, held up the trend of the room. The side facing the room bore a much higher level of craftsmanship than the outside one. It seemed to be made of ebony wood and its knob was gold plated steel. She wondered where one side ended and the other began. Despite aesthetics the room was still a prison. The door, in all likelihood, could not be opened.
She scanned the room, like she had when she first entered, but with greater scrutiny. There were no windows, she realized. Was this an indication that there was a barren landscape outside? Or maybe it was an indication that there was nothing outside. There were no clocks either. Would that serve to make this temporary setback seem longer or shorter she wondered.
She approached the mirror. An alicorn with a coat resembling darkest night, and the wisping fabric of space for a mane stared back with turquoise eyes. There was nothing that surprised her in it. Her appearance was exactly as majestic, grand and intimidating as she expected it to be.
Just as she was about to trot towards the coffee table she heard a voice on the other side of the door.
“-ie demands you stop ignoring her presence.” From the voice’s pitch it clearly did not belong to the guard.
The door opened. In came the guard and a unicorn mare. Her coat was sky blue and barely contrasted her mane. She wore only a violet cape, that concealed her cutie mark, and a witch’s hat, which was positioned so as not to conceal her horn. Both were decorated with the shorthand symbol for stars. A symbol which irritated the alicorn.
The unicorn mare continued trotting after the guard had stopped. “The Grrreat and Powerful Trrrixie demands that-” The unicorn’s demand was cut short, as was her stride, when she caught sight of the dark alicorn. “Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, Celestia no!” She turned to the guard, in the process tripping on her cape, forcing her to crawl. “Please no! Trixie is sorry! Trixie repents!” Even looking up at him from her knees with panicked, tear filled eyes the guard showed no signs of sympathy.
“In regards to your new living quarters the mare over there can answer your inquiries,” the guard said clinically, “I have elaborated on all important information with her just recently.” The guard turned to the door wrenching his foreleg from the unicorn’s grasp. The door closed behind him.
The unicorn seemed paralysed. She had not dropped her front hooves from when they lost contact with the guard. A tear drew a line down her frozen face, and dropped to the carpet.
For a while the alicorn’s attention was focused on the frightened unicorn mare. It lost her interest. She turned and moved towards the sofa, climbing on top of it so she faced the door. She tucked her legs under her. Staring ahead, away from the unicorn, she wondered why she did not close her own eyes. Perhaps she was not tired enough.
A seemingly significant amount of time had passed. The alicorn turned her neck to check up on the unicorn. She was now in the corner right of the door with her face buried in the carpet. Sometime since the alicorn last saw her, the unicorn’s cape had shifted so it was only on one side of her body. The alicorn studied her cutie mark. It appeared to be a wand topped with a star. Accompanying it was an almost crescent-shaped stroke of light blue with dots of white strewn within it. Magic perhaps, thought the alicorn, no, a wand is a pantomime of magic. Showmanship then?
The alicorn grew tired of the situation. She cleared her throat loudly. The unicorn tensed and gave a slight squeal. She did not raise her head.
“Why do you cower so?” The unicorn did not answer only burying her face deeper in the carpet. “Why do you ignore your Queen!?”Her voice echoed off the walls long after she had closed her mouth. The unicorn gave another squeal. Despite her attempts, and the thick carpet, she could not suppress the sounds of her sobbing.
The alicorn got off the sofa and trotted towards the unicorn, stopping a few steps away. Her horn glowed but before the unicorn could be enveloped by magical energy the door opened. The alicorn turned her head towards it.
The guard entered, followed closely by a light brown stallion with a short cut, dark brown mane. On his flank was a symbol of an hourglass. They halted as soon as they were in the room.
“This will be your residence for the foreseeable future.” The guard stared straight ahead making eye contact with no one. “Should you require further information the alicorn mare to your right can supply all necessary information.”
The brown stallion’s eyes widened in slight surprise. He looked to his right and his expression deflated. “… Buck.”
Something clicked in the alicorn’s mind. She felt quite stupid for not having realized it sooner.
“I am not your torturer.”
The stallion did not seem relieved. The guard turned to leave the room.
“Ah, ah! Wait!” The stallion exclaimed looking to the guard. The guard turned to face him.
“I am sorry to say you cannot exchange rooms.”
“No, not that,” the stallion said with a shake of his head. “I just realized what’s wrong with you.”
“May I ask?”
“You don’t blink.” The stallion stared up and into space. “Come to think of it I can’t now either.” He spied the mirror and hurried to it. “You bugger! You’ve taken my eyelids.”
“They are not needed here,” the guard said, making eye contact with the stallion’s reflection. “Sleep is not only unnecessary here: it is impossible.”
The stallion was about to say something, but the guard interrupted, “If you have no further need of me I will depart.”
“Wait!” the stallion said. “Is this it?” He looked to the wall nearest him. “Is there anything outside?”
“There is only a corridor.” The guard turned to leave and no interruption would stop him. The door closed behind him.
The stallion looked to the alicorn, then to the crying unicorn. “So you’re not my torturer,” he said. He continued to stare at the unicorn. “I thought you were dead.” It was directed at the alicorn.
The alicorn, who had been eyeing the stallion since he entered, replied with contempt. “I was banished just recently. I am surprised and displeased that anypony would let such details pass their minds.”
The stallion trotted towards the alicorn. “I guess time spills into itself here.” He went past the alicorn and crouched by the unicorn. He whispered comforts into her ear.
The sight filled alicorn with annoyance and disdain. The unicorn's sobbing died down. The stallion continued whispering.
“State your name!” the alicorn demanded causing the unicorn to sob with increased vigour.
The stallion did not move, but he stopped whispering and said, “No one uses my real name. No matter how many times I say it.” He took a gentle hold on the unicorn to lift her to her feet. She offered resistance at first but eventually complied. She covered her eyes with one of her legs. He led her to a sofa, helping her on to it. She continued sobbing.
“Tell me why you are here!” the alicorn approached the two, stopping halfway. “The fact that you are here tells me sister has banished you. What could one such as you have done to merit my punishment?”
The stallion stopped whispering to the unicorn. “I don’t know. I’m a clockmaker. Maybe in a world where the day and night are controlled by living goddesses I’m a blasphemer. I really don’t know and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.” He returned his gaze to the unicorn. “Besides it would never be as extreme as what you did.”
“Do you dare to suggest that my actions were unjustified?”
Once again the stallion tore his view from the crying mare, feeling quite annoyed about that. “Well I’ve only ever heard of it. But you stole the bucking sun! Then you dragged your moon and stars to replace it forever. How do you think any of that’s justified.” He didn’t bother turning to the unicorn.
The alicorn regained her original calm and then some. She straightened her posture to as elegant and regal an extent as she could. She raised her chin so that she could further look down on the stallion. “I take it you have never placed pride in your art.” She moved as to be centre stage in the room. “Or perhaps it has always been praised. So I ask, do you know the pain of seeing ponies ignore, or even dread, your art despite its obvious beauty and splendour?” The unicorn’s ears pricked up. “No, you have no idea the sorrow it causes. What makes it unbearable, though, is to see them praise and relish the work of your inferior.” The unicorn’s head was no longer buried in the sofa. Her tears had stopped and dried. She stared at the alicorn. “To see their faces light up, to see them happy because of art that pales in comparison to your own, yet show none of that awe towards your work: that is the ultimate insult.” A faint grin came to her face as she saw the unicorn’s stare. “If they refuse to acknowledge, or even notice, your art’s beauty is it not justifiable, then, to force them to?”
The stallion started, “Now that’s jus-”
“Yes!” screamed the unicorn as she jumped to the floor. “Yes! Yes! The Great and Powerful Trixie agrees completely!”
The stallion almost tripped backwards. He had been too focused on the alicorn to notice the changes in the unicorn’s attitude. He was quite disillusioned with her now. “Hang on, that’s complete horseapples,” he said, no longer caring about the unicorn’s feelings. “You can’t use that to brush off all the trouble you would have caused.”
The alicorn was not surprised by his change in opinions on the unicorn. She put on a playful grin. “I know the type of pony you are. Perhaps...” Her ethereal mane wrapped around her, concealing her entirely. When it dispelled a petite, slender, midnight blue alicorn with a mane like strands of dark satin approached the stallion. She was slightly shorter than him making it easy for her to look up at him, wide eyed. He could feel her sweet breath. “Perhaps,” she repeated in a soft and timid voice, “you would agree with me if I was a helpless, little filly.”
The stallion could not force any coherent sound from his mouth. The ethereal cacoon returned and wrapped around the mare. When it dispelled it revealed the dark alicorn as smug as ever. She let out a mocking, resonating laugh. The unicorn joined her.
The alicorn stopped. “I do know your type. You’re the type who sees a crying young mare and feels it's his duty to comfort her.” As much as physically possible she looked down on him. “How you love the feeling of superiority, the feeling of control.”
The stallion removed his eyes from her. “Shut up.”
“Have I hit a nerve? Have I thrown salt in your wounds?” the alicorn asked. “Is that part of the reason you’re here?” The stallion said nothing. “It is, isn’t it? You probably took advantage of some poor filly. Although,” she considered, “that would certainly not be enough to send you here.” The size of her grin exceeded belief. “How many of them there must have been.”
“Shut the buck up!” the stallion yelled. “You don’t know… I helped her.” He made one laugh. He brought his eyes back to the alicorn. “You’re wrong. One. I’m not here because of any of the others.” His eyes lost focus. “Colgate. I picked her up. She was crying on the street alone. It was raining. What else could I do? Leave her?” His eyes remained far off, but the vigour of his breathing increased as he yelled, “She owes me! She had nothing and I gave her a place to live! A job! Even if I brought home other mares what right does she have to complain?!” He calmed. “I didn't beat her. Not once.” He added almost as a side note, “No, just once. But she deserved it that time. Come into my house with a farmhand, muddy my sheets." He paused. "She didn’t complain. It was the others – they complained for her. Some town folk wanting to do right by their neighbour. Did any of them give a buck when she was on the street!” He paused, his mouth hung open. “Just my luck that the one who called me out was connected to the Princess. I went to the Royal Court – the Royal Court! The kindness I showed Colgate meant nothing to her then. Oh, how she told all about her evil benefactor. She has my shop now, that’s how it works.”
His eyes appeared to be focused on nothing that was in the room. “There she is, crying in my room at midday. It’s summer. The store’s closed. The store’s open. It’s morning. She’s putting up a sign: ‘Everything Must Go. Half-Off Sale’.” Tears swelled in his far away eyes. “The clocks are all gone now. It’s winter. The hour glasses are still there.” He laughed. “No one wants hour glasses. She’s looking at them. She picks one up. But that’s- No, no! Put that down! Put that down, you bitch! No! I hope you cut yourself on the glass! She knew. That bitch knew! That was my first.” He paused, only his breathing broke the silence. “She’s not crying now. I can’t see her anymore.” His eyes refocused on his immediate surroundings. He was crying.
The alicorn had remained attentive throughout the stallion’s rant and was unmoved. She looked up at nothing in particular. “I can see it too,” she said. “I can see my kingdom filled with relieved faces. They are all so pleased that their inevitable fate has been held off. Sister said she would send me here for as long as she could: a thousand years. The weak filly. But it does not even seem that. One week, two weeks, three. I can still see their faces. I can still see them trying to rebuild. I can still see sister. One year, two years, three. My vision is hazier than I would like. Their faces are happy. It is almost as if they are forgetting. I can still see sister. Ten years, twenty years, thirty." She stops. "They are gone. I cannot see them. After only a generation I am forgotten!” She calmed. “I can still see sister.” She looked at the stallion. “We have been forgotten. Perhaps that is the reason you share a room with me. Our punishment is to be forgotten.”
From in front of the mirror came a yell, “Trixie has been uncharacteristically quiet. She proclaims you are wrong.” They had not seen her move. Her chin was raised in the air but she failed to look down on the two. “Trixie’s punishment would never be to be forgotten. The Great and Powerful Trixie will be remembered forever.”
The alicorn was irritated. She approached the unicorn stopping only a hoof away. “I assume not for any good reason if sister sent you here.”
For a second the unicorn was lost for words. “Trixie is here unjustly. She only wished to prove herself.”
“Hey, I remember you.” The stallion had regained his composure. “You’re the one who brought the bloody Ursa Major.” He felt good having someone to direct his anger at. “Two bucking times.”
The unicorn snorted. “Trixie has already said that she only acted to prove herself.”
The stallion approached her. “By destroying the bucking town twice.”
The unicorn was indignant. She looked the stallion straight in the eyes. “The Great and Powerful Trixie would have succeeded if that parlour magician of a unicorn had not interfered. Trixie was humiliated by her once, when Trixie had… gotten slightly out of her depth.” She stamped her hoof on the ground. “Trixie could not let that stand. She could not let others falsely believe that she was worse than that talentless unicorn. She refined her magic until there was no doubt she could overcome the beast. She enraged the beast. It was not her fault that it immediately ran to the town. She could handle it, of course. But she was not quick enough. That purple unicorn got their first. That unicorn sent Trixie to the Royal Court for no good reason.
“Trixie had the trial set unfairly against her. That unicorn was the Princess’s apprentice.” She cleared her throat and re-raised her chin. “Trixie has gotten off topic. She merely wished to state that she is not forgotten like you.” She looked ahead of her and into a faraway place as the other two had done. “No,” she said after a second. “No, no. This cannot be. The Great and Powerful Trixie cannot see anyone.” She stomped her hoof. “No, no, no! The Great and Powerful Trixie is not forgotten yet! She is not!” Her vigour seemed to escape her as her frame deflated. “I am forgotten.”
The stallion spoke up, “Yes, we’re all on the same boat Miss high-and-mighty, so stop whining.”
The unicorn almost assaulted him. “I will whine if I like. Ponies have forgotten me so I have lost everything that makes me. What have you lost? You’re still the selfish and horrid pony you were when ponies knew you.”
“I’ve not lost anything? I’ll tell you, you bit-”
“Do not comfort yourselves with your suffering!” the alicorn boomed, forcing the other two to pay attention. “It is disgusting to see such a display.”
“I was not comforting myself,” the unicorn explained like a foal to a teacher. “I was merely telling him that I have a right to express my suffering.”
“You have a reason to express your suffering,” the alicorn stated, “not a right.”
The stallion stomped over to the alicorn. He put his face as close to her's as he could. “We can bloody well comfort ourselves in any bucking way we please. Who are you to tell us what to do?” He gave a single spite filled laugh and gestured to the unicorn. “You know I called her ‘high-and-mighty,’ but you. You’re worse. You’re one of those ponies who think they have power when they have nothing.” He gestured to the entire room. “You may have been a Goddess in Equestria but here you’re just a prisoner like us. And even when you’re a Goddess you’re not so powerful.” He lowered his voice to an audible whisper, “I said time spills into itself here." He grins. "I know you’re going to escape from here.” There was no surprise in the alicorn’s contempt filled eyes. “I also know that you’re not going win. You’re going to fail, but not because of Celestia. Not because of any Goddess or God. No, you’re going to be defeated by six little fillies. That’s just how weak yo-”
The alicorn’s mane impaled him. He was lifted off the ground by the ethereal mass and thrown into a sofa, knocking it over. The alicorn withdrew her bloodstained mane.
The unicorn face reflected her panic. “You killed hi-”
“Buck!” said the stallion getting to his feet. His wound was almost healed. “It didn’t work,” he coughed. “Can’t die here, I guess.”
“Silence,” said the alicorn, her tone was weary. “Sister is not as weak as I once thought. She said I would suffer. From the moment I felt my mane pierce your heart I knew what my suffering was.” She turned to the mirror. “I thought suffering would be a thousand years of barren landscape. I thought suffering would be a thousand years of isolation. But those were just my naïve assumptions.” Her gaze moved upwards. “No – Suffering is other ponies!” She turned back to the other two. “Whine, argue, do what you like,” her tone was subdued, “I am respecting sister too much right now to care.” She laughed in genuine humour. “For one thousand years my punishment is company.” She laughed more as she trotted to the nearest sofa. “If I was given an eternity I would never have thought of it.” She set herself down on one.
After a while the stallion spoke, “Well, well, let's get on with it...”
