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Aster Invictus
They're calling me. I hear them. The Princesses.
They want me to go to the Aster Invictus.
"Long ago, we had to leave Equestria. The heavens conspired against it, and it took all our power to stop them," says the one crowned with day.
"Hope was not lost for Equestria, for we made the Aster Invictus to keep it safe," says the one cloaked in night.
"We promised we'd come back one day. That day's about to come." says the one robed with love.
"But we need your help. You're the one we've been waiting for," says the one clad in friendship.
I am humbled. I'm just a normal pony, yet the Princesses want me to bring about their return. I tell my husband, since I must share my excitement.
"What are you on about?" he asks. "You don't plan on just believing voices in your head, right?"
I am dismayed, but I can't deny what I hear. I tell everypony I know, hoping—for what, exactly? I don't need to tell them to know the answers they give.
"Have you been getting enough sleep?" asks the baker.
"You're plum crazy!" says the corn farmer.
"The Princesses aren't coming back," grouses the constable.
"Laity cannot enter the temple," says the priestess. "Even if you do hear Them, it is for naught."
What do they know? Why did I ask? Why would I pay attention to fools like them? I know what I must do. Last night I kissed my husband good night, and today I left before he could kiss me good morning. It breaks my heart, but there is no other choice.
I take the train to Canterburg, at the foothills of the Temple Mount. The crumbling spires of the old city loom high as I stare out the window. Above that, the temple housing the Aster Invictus, its glow bringing light and life to all Equestria.
Here, I am closer to the Aster than I have been in my life. I know my purpose. Yet now I am unsure. The baker's words tug at my heart. The farmer's exclamation weighs on my mind. The constable's lament wears on my soul. And the priestess's truth tries my strength.
I go to the library. Canterburg houses the oldest texts in the world—some said to be older than the Aster Invictus. There is a prophecy of the Princesses' return, and I would like to know if I am in accord with fate.
There it is. The lettering is ancient, but I know how to read the Celestial script. It describes the hero who will lead Equestria out of this era. She will be kind, loyal, generous, good-humored, honest; and she will brim with the power of her virtue.
Is that me?
I abandoned my husband to embark on my quest. I didn't even tell him what I was going to do. I took the money we were saving for our first foal to fund it. And when ponies told me I was wrong, I snapped into a dour funk.
I am no hero. I'm just a normal pony. I do not brim with power, just hubris.
They're calling me. I hear them. The Princesses.
They're not calling me. I know that.
They want me to go to the Aster Invictus.
"Long ago, we had to leave Equestria. The heavens conspired against it, and it took all our power to stop them," says the one crowned with day.
"Hope was not lost for Equestria, for we made the Aster Invictus to keep it safe," says the one cloaked in night.
"We promised we'd come back one day. That day's about to come." says the one robed with love.
"But we need your help. You're the one we've been waiting for," says the one clad in friendship.
I am humbled. I'm just a normal pony, yet the Princesses want me to bring about their return. I tell my husband, since I must share my excitement.
"What are you on about?" he asks. "You don't plan on just believing voices in your head, right?"
I am dismayed, but I can't deny what I hear. I tell everypony I know, hoping—for what, exactly? I don't need to tell them to know the answers they give.
"Have you been getting enough sleep?" asks the baker.
"You're plum crazy!" says the corn farmer.
"The Princesses aren't coming back," grouses the constable.
"Laity cannot enter the temple," says the priestess. "Even if you do hear Them, it is for naught."
What do they know? Why did I ask? Why would I pay attention to fools like them? I know what I must do. Last night I kissed my husband good night, and today I left before he could kiss me good morning. It breaks my heart, but there is no other choice.
I take the train to Canterburg, at the foothills of the Temple Mount. The crumbling spires of the old city loom high as I stare out the window. Above that, the temple housing the Aster Invictus, its glow bringing light and life to all Equestria.
Here, I am closer to the Aster than I have been in my life. I know my purpose. Yet now I am unsure. The baker's words tug at my heart. The farmer's exclamation weighs on my mind. The constable's lament wears on my soul. And the priestess's truth tries my strength.
I go to the library. Canterburg houses the oldest texts in the world—some said to be older than the Aster Invictus. There is a prophecy of the Princesses' return, and I would like to know if I am in accord with fate.
There it is. The lettering is ancient, but I know how to read the Celestial script. It describes the hero who will lead Equestria out of this era. She will be kind, loyal, generous, good-humored, honest; and she will brim with the power of her virtue.
Is that me?
I abandoned my husband to embark on my quest. I didn't even tell him what I was going to do. I took the money we were saving for our first foal to fund it. And when ponies told me I was wrong, I snapped into a dour funk.
I am no hero. I'm just a normal pony. I do not brim with power, just hubris.
They're calling me. I hear them. The Princesses.
They're not calling me. I know that.
"Unconquered star," eh? Intriguing.
Oh. Well. Hmm. This is a downer. The problem with this sort of story is that it needs a lot more space to properly establish the uncertainty. This knocks it down almost as soon as it sets it up, and it feels like I’m back where I started. There’s definitely an intriguing idea here, but trying to cram it into a minific was not a wise decision.
Oh. Well. Hmm. This is a downer. The problem with this sort of story is that it needs a lot more space to properly establish the uncertainty. This knocks it down almost as soon as it sets it up, and it feels like I’m back where I started. There’s definitely an intriguing idea here, but trying to cram it into a minific was not a wise decision.
I don't know if this suffers from being so short. Maybe. It's still better than most of the stories I've read. This is a real story, with a plot, a character arc, and an emotional punch, and it's original, and "pony". I think those last 2 lines deserve reconsideration. They're good, but so sparse and literal... no connotations to set up expectations. The ending is so sudden. There might be a better way to lead up to it. But this is quite good.
Latin. Okay. Aster Invictus as the Sun?
Frankly, I don't know what to make of this. I suppose it's metaphoric because it takes place in the mind of a crazy pony — it can't be in the past since it mentions the four princesses. So this must be some sort of interior monologue — or dialogue, assuming the pony is schizophrenic.
So… I’m a bit lost, all the more that the final line is not a real resolution, on the contrary, it ushers a completely different interpretation. Well written and stuff, but too outlandish for me.
Frankly, I don't know what to make of this. I suppose it's metaphoric because it takes place in the mind of a crazy pony — it can't be in the past since it mentions the four princesses. So this must be some sort of interior monologue — or dialogue, assuming the pony is schizophrenic.
So… I’m a bit lost, all the more that the final line is not a real resolution, on the contrary, it ushers a completely different interpretation. Well written and stuff, but too outlandish for me.
Hmm, hmm... this is very efficient, and it's got an actual story arc. I'm having trouble extracting your theme from it, though I do feel like you've got one.
Don't listen to the voices in your head?
Look before you leap?
Doing hard things is hard?
I dunno. I wish that was clearer. Otherwise, my pattern-matching brain wanted to connect the baker to Pinkie and the farmer to Applejack, but the constable threw me. I'd suggest changing at least the first one to avoid that and make your schism from the show clearer sooner.
...oh, and what happened to Flurry Heart?
Don't listen to the voices in your head?
Look before you leap?
Doing hard things is hard?
I dunno. I wish that was clearer. Otherwise, my pattern-matching brain wanted to connect the baker to Pinkie and the farmer to Applejack, but the constable threw me. I'd suggest changing at least the first one to avoid that and make your schism from the show clearer sooner.
...oh, and what happened to Flurry Heart?
Aster Invictus — C — First impression: Well, not one of our Latin people (Invicta). (+) There seems to be a complicated plot beneath this futuristic story, or perhaps a mental illness. (-) I’m leaning to a mental illness, due to the way her thought processes yank around. There’s a *lot* of passive voice in here, forced in a lot of places.
I was sucked into this by the heavy prose and the world-building. The central character was also endearing and relatable, in her own way.
Man, that last line threw me hard, though. I was all geared up for an underdog fighting the religious establishment-kinda story, and I'll give this huge credit for pulling me in enough to forget that a word limit was closing in. But now with that ending line, I don't know what's going on.
Tier: Almost There (but seriously, color me interested)
Man, that last line threw me hard, though. I was all geared up for an underdog fighting the religious establishment-kinda story, and I'll give this huge credit for pulling me in enough to forget that a word limit was closing in. But now with that ending line, I don't know what's going on.
Tier: Almost There (but seriously, color me interested)
I'm lost.
So, sun is dying, and Princesses do.. Something? And now there's a star on the mountain and the princesses are gone... And out heroine(?) is hearing the voices of the Princesses. So she leaves her home without explanation, travels to the great temple/mountain/library, read the prophesy... And realizes that she's a jerk for leaving her home as she did, so it's not her the prophesy speaks of?
So she's just crazy?
That's a bit of a downer. And also kinda confusing. What is the priest talking about? What does "Laity cannot enter the temple?" mean? Why is it for naught even if she can hear them?
While I'm getting the very broad brushstrokes of the world you're trying to describe, all the details seem... muddled. Maybe I'm just missing the point...
So, sun is dying, and Princesses do.. Something? And now there's a star on the mountain and the princesses are gone... And out heroine(?) is hearing the voices of the Princesses. So she leaves her home without explanation, travels to the great temple/mountain/library, read the prophesy... And realizes that she's a jerk for leaving her home as she did, so it's not her the prophesy speaks of?
So she's just crazy?
That's a bit of a downer. And also kinda confusing. What is the priest talking about? What does "Laity cannot enter the temple?" mean? Why is it for naught even if she can hear them?
While I'm getting the very broad brushstrokes of the world you're trying to describe, all the details seem... muddled. Maybe I'm just missing the point...
Aster Invictus: the retrospective
When I hit submit on this story, I was pretty proud of it. Making finals was a pleasant surprise, and even now, I'm satisfied. It has a complete story arc in about 540 words, and it's also actually kind of cool. I can't wait to touch this up and expand it for Fimfiction.
That said, it's got some flaws:
1) The prose is terse to the point of curtness. Part of me wants to blame this on the minific format. After all, everyone knows that stories often get too ambitious for the minific format, and end up suffering as a result. Yet I had plenty of breathing room within the word count. So this likely can't be fixed with the minific panaceo of "add more words." I think this exacerbates the story's other major problems, as well.
2) The ending isn't ambiguous enough. What I wanted out of the ending was unclearness over whether the narrator actually was the chosen one or whether she'd just gone off the deep end. That's not what I got; everyone unanimously thought that she was crazy. I really should have seen this one coming and patched it up with a line like "'No!' said the Princess clad in friendship. 'You're good enough!'" There's certainly room to maneuver here. But that may not be the best choice, because...
3) The ending needs reconsideration entirely. I don't recall what the original goal I had in mind was, but the ending as you see it was literally decided on as it was being written. If nothing else, the whole possible mental illness thing is probably not in very good taste.
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>>Not_A_Hat I think the central idea here is wrestling with the concept of "the chosen one." Like, can the chosen one ever be horribly flawed? If she fails to live up to the most important virtues, was she ever really chosen? If not, doesn't she have to live an immaculate life?
>>georg Invicta? I was under the impression that aster is a masculine noun in the nominative case. At any rate, you've sniffed me out. My Latin education consists of reading the first two chapters of the Wikibook on it.
>>Bad Horse I'm amused that your comment basically amounts to "this story is good because it's a story."
Everyone else, thank you for your comment: >>FanOfMostEverything, >>Trick_Question, >>Monokeras, >>CoffeeMinion, and >>TheCyanRecluse. And to those who read but didn't comment, thank you too.