Atavistic Guilt

by Unfoundedfall

Rating: teen
Tags: Prince Blueblood, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark
Length: 1146

You can't escape from the sins of your ancestors.

You can't escape from the sins of your ancestors.

The title image is by kvernikovskiy. You can find more of his wonderful art at his deviant art page. http://kvernikovskiy.deviantart.com/

Published 2012-12-20 14:50:02 UTC
Last updated 2012-12-20 14:50:02 UTC

Origins

It is with terrible despair and a great urgency that I, Prince Blueblood, document the last few months of my life. Even now I can feel my stability of mind, or what is left of it, breaking. I ask that whoever finds this letter will not look for me or my body, you will find neither. By staying any longer in this accursed mansion you will only invite a painful death upon you. I advise you to read no further and to take this letter directly to Princess Celestia in Canterlot. As a final plea I warn that this letter is not for those ponies with a weak fortitude; However if you truly desire to continue I cannot stop you. If you must read on I suggest that you stop here and return to the relative safety of your home before continuing.

I am writing this so that my dear aunt Celestia will have no reason to mourn the end of the wretched Blueblood family line. Surely she is ignorant of the vile horrors that surround my family? Although in retrospect she was certainly reluctant to respond to my numerous queries about the location of my ancestral manor. It matters little whether she knew or not. If she did know then she will hopefully understand what I am about to do...if she didn't know...she will.

I suppose that giving a full account of what caused me to research the origins of the..."esteemed"...Blueblood family would be prudent. This wretched quest of mine began on the night of this year's Grand Galloping Gala. I was ecstatic since I had learned that the six mares that had ruined the previous Gala would not be attending.

On my way to the gala I came across an ugly relic of a mare. She must have been an exceedingly feeble old hag, for she fell into a small mud puddle. I would not have paid her any attention except for when she fell some mud had stained my new suit. I released upon her a tirade of abuse. Unlike most of the other squalid peasants she did not cower before me. Instead she demanded to know "What made the Blueblood family so worthy of praise? What did the Bluebloods do to deserve their place in society?" I did not have an answer for her. Instead of saying so I left under the guise that I was late for the Gala.

I soon forgot about the incident until a few weeks later; when I met with my colleague Fancy Pants for lunch. Somehow we got onto the topic of the history of his family. I didn't pay much attention. Apparently his family grew to power by forming a trade agreement with the Griffons or some other such nonsense. It wasn't until he asked me about the Bluebloods' rise to power. Once more I had no answer to give him. I quickly remembered I had a prior engagement and left.

For weeks this question plagued me. At the time I could see no reason for me to not know such information. The only reason I assumed that I didn't know was that my parents had died when I was a foal. I soon hired a private detective, I can't remember his name...it hardly matters. I gave him the task of learning where my family came from before we rose to power. He accepted and disappeared. It would be months before I heard from him again.

Soon after that I started to send letters requesting any information that Aunt Celestia had. My letters went mostly unanswered. I determined that if I wanted answers I would have to gain an audience with her. It took considerable effort to gain an audience. Apparently even the holding the rank of Prince does not give one free reign to disrupt the mechanics of the Royal Court.

When I finally did gain she showed an uncharacteristic amount if impatience with my questioning. I believe it is worth noting that upon hearing my question the first time even the ever-present mask of smiles and warmth that my aunt wore cracked. She quickly recovered. It was almost unnoticeable. I'm not even sure if it did happen. I believe her exact response was "It doesn't matter who your ancestors are or what they did, all that matters is what you do with your life Blueblood." Indeed I should have listened to her advice, as everypony should; for the answers that awaited me have made life unbearable. Perhaps if I could have stopped myself there I could have lived a good life. I doubt that though.

One would think that Princess Celestia's refusal to answer would diminish my desire to learn about the Bluebloods rise to power. Instead it only had the opposite effect. It soon became an obsession of mine. My research consumed my every waking moment. No amount of bits was too much to learn even a fraction of my family history. I spent over a couple hundred thousand bits on wild goose chases and useless facts before the detective I had hired showed back up. I remember now. His name was Flathoof. A horrible name to say the least.

He apologized for the amount of time it took. It was apparently much more difficult than he had anticipated to find out any information about my families prestigious history. He said that after months of searching he finally discovered that my family originated from a small seaside town south of Manehattan. Flathoof couldn't gather much about the actual history of my family. The ponies of the small town were...extremely unwelcoming when they learned of his motives. Apparently my ancestors were not remembered favorably.

I was so overjoyed to learn anything substantial that I gave him an extra one hundred thousand bits. He was ready to leave when I offered him an extra fifty-thousand if he were to accompany me to the town. Despite what my cutie mark suggests I get lost quite easily in areas that are unknown to me. He happily accepted my offer. After all it was thought to be an easy fifty-thousand.

I immediately bought two first class train tickets to Manehattan and arranged for one of my personal carriages to take us o the small town. Along the way Flathoof informed me of the local superstitions; of which there are many. Most of these tales surrounded the acts of my ancestors. Most were quite appalling. The uncultured ponies of that town must have been horribly misinformed. Or so I thought.

o.0.o

A/N: I would like to thank you for reading the first part of my story. Any constructive criticism/review/general feedback would be very welcome. You would honestly have my heartfelt gratitude.

Author's Note

I would like to thank you for reading the first part of my story. Any constructive criticism would be very welcome.