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Organised by
RogerDodger
Word limit
1000–25000
Fable
It’s getting dark out.
Twilight sighed. Her warm breath steamed up the glass window overlooking the street below, obscuring her view of the sheet of white snow that had draped itself over everything. Outside, a sharply-cold torrent of snow was blustering down, little eddies being whirled in blasts of icy air. A single street lamp stood next to the cottage across the road, resolutely casting a faint, incandescent glow over the dark street. Twilight thought about giving the brave street lamp a scarf.
She giggled to herself and blinked away her daydream, turning around to close the curtains.
“Twilight! Hurry up!” a bouncy voice leapt from downstairs. “This is getting boooring!”
“Coming!” Twilight called back.
She trotted out of her room, levitating the huge bag of marshmallows she had come to get with her. She appeared at the top of the stairs and looked down at her guest, eager to see her reaction at the feast of soft, pink and white sweets.
Instead of being greeted by Pinkie Pie, all that Twilight could see downstairs was an impressive fortress crafted from every pillow, cushion, duvet and towel in the library. Small sentry towers and barracks made of reference books surrounded it, complete with a garrison of Spike’s bravest and most loyal toy-soldierponies guarding their benevolent, bubblegum-pink princess.
Twilight snickered and trotted down the stairs. “Wow, Pinkie, good job!”
Pinkie stuck her head out from inside the fortress. “Thanks, Twilight! Wanna be my Royal Egghead?”
Twilight frowned playfully. “Sure!” She bundled into the fort, floating the bag of marshmallows in with her.
“Ooh, diplomatic gifts!” Pinkie snatched the bag from the air, ripped it open with a combination of hooves and teeth, and proceeded to stick her head inside the bag.
“Careful there, Princess Pink.”
Pinkie Pie removed her head from the bag with a mouthful of marshmallows, grinning. “Hmphy! Wamma—” She gulped down the last few before continuing, “Wanna tell scary stories?”
Twilight thought for a moment. “Okay, but just a second...” She shuffled out from the fort and concentrated her magic. A few moments later, the library was plunged into warm darkness. She floated a camping lamp into the fort and humphed in approval, taking one last glance around at the numerous Royal Guard and their watchtowers and barracks.
‘Don’t worry, Your Eggheadedness! We’ll keep the castle protected until dawn!’ the Captain of the Royal Garrison said, ‘Our sentries will watch day and night! Please rest easy!’
Twilight giggled and patted the brave captain on the head, before rolling back inside the palace again.
“Royal Egghead! We grow bored of royal duties, We ask that you tell us a story!” Pinkie commanded.
Twilight laughed. “What kind of story, Princess?”
“Tell us an awesome story, with heroes and villains doing epic battle and wars between Equestria and the barbaric Griffon Kingdoms and dragons burning things and magic and humans, and all with a romantic finale at the end!”
“Just like that?”
“Well, yeah! You are Royal Egghead!”
Twilight frowned. “I demand my title be changed, if I am to tell this epic tale!”
“Fine,” Pinkie said grudgingly, “you can be, uh, Royal Advisor.”
Twilight nodded her head in satisfaction. She then lapsed into deep thought and nibbled on the tip of her hoof, thinking of her conflicts, characters and their relationships, scenery, history...
At that very moment, the Captain of the Palace Guard burst in through the throne-room doors, huffing and puffing. “Your Highness! Please pardon me, Your Highness, but I have an urgent message from a courier!”
The Princess stretched on her throne. “Yes, tell me.”
The Captain nodded breathlessly and levitated a scroll from a pouch on his shiny armour. “Ahem,” he began, “Discontent in the south has given rise to a fierce rebellion, and Royal Forces deployed in the area have had to withdraw to the closest garrison. The regional commandant would like to ask your orders, Your Highness.”
The Princess listened silently, her face revealing nothing. A few crushingly-silent minutes passed, with the Royal Advisor’s eyes darting from the Princess to the Captain and back, nervously.
“Y-Your orders, Your Highness?”
The Princess fixed a sharp gaze at the Captain. “Retaliate with full force,” she said softly, “and ensure that peace is restored to the region, at all costs.”
The Captain nodded profusely and stuttered, “How should we deal with the rebels?”
“Make an example of them.”
The Royal Advisor sighed as she watched the Captain nod stiffly and salute. “Jawohl!”
As the Captain left the room, the Princess softened again. She sighed quietly and slumped in her great golden throne, her weariness now painfully obvious to the advisor. The advisor frowned to see her old friend in this way, and trotted up quietly to the Princess.
“I just want them to be happy, is all,” the Princess murmured, “Why won’t they be happy?”
The advisor smiled. “Life must have happiness and unhappiness, my Princess. One cannot exist without the other, they are yin and yang.”
“Yes... I see. It seems like I still have a lot to learn.”
“As do we all, my Princess.”
The Princess frowned. “Advisor, tell me, am I not the most powerful being in the land?”
The advisor nodded. “That you are, my Princess.”
“Then why, with all my power, can I not stop unhappiness?”
“It’s just impossible, Princess.”
“Even if I make it illegal?”
“Especially if you make it illegal.”
The Princess paused, resting her chin on her hoof. “What if I used magic?”
“You might succeed,” the advisor said, “but I would advise strongly against it.”
“Why?”
“It would upset the natural order.”
“Maybe the natural order is wrong...”
The advisor looked sternly at the Princess now, shaking her head. “You will not do that. I won’t allow it. Magic should not be used in that way.”
The Princess turned back, leering with equal fervour. “I’m the most powerful being in the land, you said it yourself. I can do what I want.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to yield. Inevitably, the advisor did, with a grave sigh. She faced her old friend, the friend that she had to protect from herself, and said, “If you choose to do that, I will have no choice but to do everything in my power to stop you.”
The Princess, still driven by the anger of the moment, called for her guards.
“Arrest her!” she cried. “Imprison her in the dungeons, don’t let her see the light of day again!”
The Royal Advisor threw the guards to the ground, her horn ablaze, and faced the Princess. She pleaded for the Princess to see reason, but the Princess simply screamed.
“You will return to an Equestria devoid of unhappiness, advisor!”
“You will live in an Equestria devoid of me, Princess.”
And so the advisor was thrown into a dungeon, where she was kept captive for many years, while above the Princess illegalized unhappiness and made Equestria just so. There were no more wars, no more rebellions, no more crimes and no more questioning of her judgment.
They were the saddest years of the Princess’ life.
As time went on, the Princess and her advisor grew older and wiser, and they understood more and more about the world they lived in. Soon, the time had come to release the old advisor, and she trotted forth from the dungeon to see an Equestria like nothing she had ever imagined.
The advisor, an advocate of truth and nature, dismissed the Princess’ pleas for reconciliation. This Equestria was wrong, and the Princess had done the unforgivable.
“Hey Twilight,” Pinkie Pie whispered, staring up at the ceiling of the pillow-fortress, “D’you think...”
“No. I don’t really,” Twilight said back, turning out the camping lantern. “I just made it all up.”
Twilight sighed. Her warm breath steamed up the glass window overlooking the street below, obscuring her view of the sheet of white snow that had draped itself over everything. Outside, a sharply-cold torrent of snow was blustering down, little eddies being whirled in blasts of icy air. A single street lamp stood next to the cottage across the road, resolutely casting a faint, incandescent glow over the dark street. Twilight thought about giving the brave street lamp a scarf.
She giggled to herself and blinked away her daydream, turning around to close the curtains.
“Twilight! Hurry up!” a bouncy voice leapt from downstairs. “This is getting boooring!”
“Coming!” Twilight called back.
She trotted out of her room, levitating the huge bag of marshmallows she had come to get with her. She appeared at the top of the stairs and looked down at her guest, eager to see her reaction at the feast of soft, pink and white sweets.
Instead of being greeted by Pinkie Pie, all that Twilight could see downstairs was an impressive fortress crafted from every pillow, cushion, duvet and towel in the library. Small sentry towers and barracks made of reference books surrounded it, complete with a garrison of Spike’s bravest and most loyal toy-soldierponies guarding their benevolent, bubblegum-pink princess.
Twilight snickered and trotted down the stairs. “Wow, Pinkie, good job!”
Pinkie stuck her head out from inside the fortress. “Thanks, Twilight! Wanna be my Royal Egghead?”
Twilight frowned playfully. “Sure!” She bundled into the fort, floating the bag of marshmallows in with her.
“Ooh, diplomatic gifts!” Pinkie snatched the bag from the air, ripped it open with a combination of hooves and teeth, and proceeded to stick her head inside the bag.
“Careful there, Princess Pink.”
Pinkie Pie removed her head from the bag with a mouthful of marshmallows, grinning. “Hmphy! Wamma—” She gulped down the last few before continuing, “Wanna tell scary stories?”
Twilight thought for a moment. “Okay, but just a second...” She shuffled out from the fort and concentrated her magic. A few moments later, the library was plunged into warm darkness. She floated a camping lamp into the fort and humphed in approval, taking one last glance around at the numerous Royal Guard and their watchtowers and barracks.
‘Don’t worry, Your Eggheadedness! We’ll keep the castle protected until dawn!’ the Captain of the Royal Garrison said, ‘Our sentries will watch day and night! Please rest easy!’
Twilight giggled and patted the brave captain on the head, before rolling back inside the palace again.
“Royal Egghead! We grow bored of royal duties, We ask that you tell us a story!” Pinkie commanded.
Twilight laughed. “What kind of story, Princess?”
“Tell us an awesome story, with heroes and villains doing epic battle and wars between Equestria and the barbaric Griffon Kingdoms and dragons burning things and magic and humans, and all with a romantic finale at the end!”
“Just like that?”
“Well, yeah! You are Royal Egghead!”
Twilight frowned. “I demand my title be changed, if I am to tell this epic tale!”
“Fine,” Pinkie said grudgingly, “you can be, uh, Royal Advisor.”
Twilight nodded her head in satisfaction. She then lapsed into deep thought and nibbled on the tip of her hoof, thinking of her conflicts, characters and their relationships, scenery, history...
At that very moment, the Captain of the Palace Guard burst in through the throne-room doors, huffing and puffing. “Your Highness! Please pardon me, Your Highness, but I have an urgent message from a courier!”
The Princess stretched on her throne. “Yes, tell me.”
The Captain nodded breathlessly and levitated a scroll from a pouch on his shiny armour. “Ahem,” he began, “Discontent in the south has given rise to a fierce rebellion, and Royal Forces deployed in the area have had to withdraw to the closest garrison. The regional commandant would like to ask your orders, Your Highness.”
The Princess listened silently, her face revealing nothing. A few crushingly-silent minutes passed, with the Royal Advisor’s eyes darting from the Princess to the Captain and back, nervously.
“Y-Your orders, Your Highness?”
The Princess fixed a sharp gaze at the Captain. “Retaliate with full force,” she said softly, “and ensure that peace is restored to the region, at all costs.”
The Captain nodded profusely and stuttered, “How should we deal with the rebels?”
“Make an example of them.”
The Royal Advisor sighed as she watched the Captain nod stiffly and salute. “Jawohl!”
As the Captain left the room, the Princess softened again. She sighed quietly and slumped in her great golden throne, her weariness now painfully obvious to the advisor. The advisor frowned to see her old friend in this way, and trotted up quietly to the Princess.
“I just want them to be happy, is all,” the Princess murmured, “Why won’t they be happy?”
The advisor smiled. “Life must have happiness and unhappiness, my Princess. One cannot exist without the other, they are yin and yang.”
“Yes... I see. It seems like I still have a lot to learn.”
“As do we all, my Princess.”
The Princess frowned. “Advisor, tell me, am I not the most powerful being in the land?”
The advisor nodded. “That you are, my Princess.”
“Then why, with all my power, can I not stop unhappiness?”
“It’s just impossible, Princess.”
“Even if I make it illegal?”
“Especially if you make it illegal.”
The Princess paused, resting her chin on her hoof. “What if I used magic?”
“You might succeed,” the advisor said, “but I would advise strongly against it.”
“Why?”
“It would upset the natural order.”
“Maybe the natural order is wrong...”
The advisor looked sternly at the Princess now, shaking her head. “You will not do that. I won’t allow it. Magic should not be used in that way.”
The Princess turned back, leering with equal fervour. “I’m the most powerful being in the land, you said it yourself. I can do what I want.”
They stared at each other for a few moments, each waiting for the other to yield. Inevitably, the advisor did, with a grave sigh. She faced her old friend, the friend that she had to protect from herself, and said, “If you choose to do that, I will have no choice but to do everything in my power to stop you.”
The Princess, still driven by the anger of the moment, called for her guards.
“Arrest her!” she cried. “Imprison her in the dungeons, don’t let her see the light of day again!”
The Royal Advisor threw the guards to the ground, her horn ablaze, and faced the Princess. She pleaded for the Princess to see reason, but the Princess simply screamed.
“You will return to an Equestria devoid of unhappiness, advisor!”
“You will live in an Equestria devoid of me, Princess.”
And so the advisor was thrown into a dungeon, where she was kept captive for many years, while above the Princess illegalized unhappiness and made Equestria just so. There were no more wars, no more rebellions, no more crimes and no more questioning of her judgment.
They were the saddest years of the Princess’ life.
As time went on, the Princess and her advisor grew older and wiser, and they understood more and more about the world they lived in. Soon, the time had come to release the old advisor, and she trotted forth from the dungeon to see an Equestria like nothing she had ever imagined.
The advisor, an advocate of truth and nature, dismissed the Princess’ pleas for reconciliation. This Equestria was wrong, and the Princess had done the unforgivable.
“Hey Twilight,” Pinkie Pie whispered, staring up at the ceiling of the pillow-fortress, “D’you think...”
“No. I don’t really,” Twilight said back, turning out the camping lantern. “I just made it all up.”