Tonight's livewriting: Diary of a Magic Tyrant (Patreon)

Well, here's the prolog and the first two chapters, first draft. Was this worth it? Should I post this to FimFic? Or am I going where lots of others have gone before here?

The thing is, this project would have to run a while before it really gets engaging. A lot of establishing would have to take place, for obvious reasons. 

PROLOGUE: Six ponies

On the Last Day, Rainbow Dash was chief weather pony for Ponyville. Although she dreamed of one day joining the Wonderbolts, she believed it to be a dream without hope, ever since the day something had caused her to crash and burn- not just out of the race she was flying, but out of flight school entirely. True, her parents said she had the skill to be anything she wanted… but they always said that. So she went through her days, working on weather, half-heartedly training for the Best Young Flyers competition she knew she’d never dare enter, and feeling that something was missing, something important, from her life.

As of the Last Day, Rainbow Dash had never performed a sonic rainboom.

On the Last Day, Fluttershy lived on the outskirts of Ponyville, caring for animals. She’d first discovered the surface world after being knocked off a cloud during Rainbow Dash’s last race in Cloudsdale. Her parents had bought her the cottage near the Everfree Forest to make her happy. The wild animals had come to trust her, to the point that the ponies of Ponyville came to Fluttershy, often before the town vet, whenever they had animal or pet troubles. 

On the Last Day, Rarity mended clothes in Canterlot, working for Suri Polomare. She’d never tried designing anything of her own, having gained her cutie mark late in childhood while polishing gemstones on a dress she was cleaning. Although she had the most intense interest in fashion, she could never think of any original ideas- so Suri always told her, and she should know. But if she could make and mend to order, well, at least she was in the business, in a manner of speaking.

On the Last Day, Applejack oversaw the gathering of the Apples in Ponyville for the Summer Sun Celebration. She’d spent two years in Manehattan, making connections and learning about her extended family, before she finally worked up the courage to admit her homesickness. Ever since the day she returned, she’s followed her cutie mark, with a particular eye towards avoiding the phonies and double-talkers she met in Manehattan high society. 

On the Last Day, Pinkie Pie wandered Equestria. She’d only got her cutie mark a couple of years before- fantastically old to be a blank-flank- when a circus train had passed by the station for the rock farm one day. She still didn’t know what it meant, exactly, except that excitement, happiness, wonder and pure fun had something to do with it. With the permission and support of her family, especially sister Maud, she traveled from town to town, trying to figure out the secret behind the three balloons on her flank.

On the Last Day, Twilight Sparkle was in Hollow Shades, studying the legends of the disapparance of the Pillars of Harmony. She’d graduated top in her class from Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns, earning her a personal commendation from the princess herself- the first time the princess had ever spoken directly to her. After graduation she’d lost touch with her classmates, burying herself in advanced studies, especially anything and everything related to her second idol, Starswirl the Bearded. Outside of her big brother and her former babysitter, she had no friends, not even an assistant. 

In another world, where things were different, this would be their story.

In this world, it is not. 

In this world, Harmony failed.

CHAPTER ONE

Dear diary,

Huzzah! It has been so very many years since I touched quill to parchment- excuse me, paper- like this! And I have so very much to record, so I am certain this will be the first of a long line of entries relating the history of my glorious rule over my little ponies!

I was inspired to begin this when I returned to our old castle- and oh, how it has been allowed to decay since my banishment a thousand years ago! But the library was still intact, as was the secret chamber where my accursed sister and I kept our private things. And in that room was our old diary! I was tempted to destroy it, New Diary, but I relented. True, that book was tainted by my sister’s deceitful entries, but I refuse to let her be the cause of destroying my youthful memories!

In any case, when I saw the old diary I decided I needed a new diary, so I returned to my ponies and ordered one to fetch me a new diary- the best and grandest and with the most empty pages. Were you aware, Diary, that there are whole shelves of different blank diaries in the shops now? Just one of the astounding blessings of this modern age! But my pony picked the best of the lot, as I have since verified for myself. 

But enough of this explanatory blather! Let us begin at the beginning, a thousand years ago, when I decided to do away with my sister, who would not let me escape the shadow she cast. As your history books record (for the moment: I shall have words with the historians about the necessary corrections later, to say nothing about misfiling historic events under “folklore”), my sister, on the brink of defeat, defiled the Elements of Harmony by using them to send me, her own sister, into exile on the moon for a thousand years! Most unjust, I’m sure you agree!

But, although most of my power was sealed, a tiny bit of it remained, which allowed me, very slowly, to guide the stars into alignment to break the seal on my prison. And a week ago, dear diary, that seal was broken, and I came back to Equestria to have my revenge!

And do you know, my sister did not even try to resist me this time? When I confronted her, she just bowed her head, wept a little, and said, “Treat our ponies well.” Ha! Anything would be better than suffering under her glory-mad rule for a thousand years, I’m sure! 

For some reason my sister was neither in our castle, nor in the city of Canterlot where the unicorns had their principal city once upon a time. She was in this hamlet nigh on to the Everfree Forest where our own castle stood- our sinfully neglected castle, but more on that anon. Having disposed of my sister, I greeted the ponies gathered to worship her and informed them of the change in regime. Of course, thanks to my sister’s meddling in history, none of them knew me, until I eventually identified myself. 

I was hardly surprised by the panic that resulted when I announced that the realm of the sun was at an end, and that my beautiful night would last forever. How could it be otherwise? Celestia, may she rot in my former lunar prison, had a thousand years to make my ponies terrified of my night! But they shall grow used to it. Indeed, after a week of my rule, already the ponies are growing accustomed to it. They hardly even scream anymore when I come by!

Though perhaps they deserve to be frightened a little, after how they allowed our castle to fall into disrepair. I went there after my announcement to rest- for, I confess to you alone, diary, that imprisoning my sister took a great deal of my power, and it will take time for me to recover it. But what I found… well!! I confess my battle with my sister did some damage to the castle, but I hardly expected that the castle would have been allowed to remain in that condition for a thousand years!! When I think of all the happy memories I have of that castle, all the pranks I played, the dear friends so long gone now… 

… the moon was too good for my sister. Too good by half.

In any case, I could hardly allow that situation to stand, so I returned to this hamlet, this Ponyville, and drafted the population to begin restoration work at once. This was, I fear, a mistake, since none of them at all are stoneworkers, and the only masons in town know nothing more than the small modern bricks (which are quite fetching in a cozy manner, but completely unsuited for castles). 

So I set out for Canterlot. And what I found there… oh, diary, if my sister were at liberty and free to dream, what nightmares I would give her for that! 

First and foremost, I discovered that my sister had taken over Platinum’s gaudy castle and turned it into a palace too absurd for speech! All white and gold, alabaster towers, gleaming minarets… YECH! Give me battlements! Give me crenellations! The solidity, the dignity of good honest grey stone! 

But if that was not enough… well, I was taken to my sister’s room, which was exactly as I expected it would be, and there I slept for a while. But when I awoke I demanded to see all the changes made since Platinum’s time, and during that tour I discovered the worst.

Celestia’s bedchamber is in one of the towers, as you might expect, o Diary. But another tower had been sealed by my sister, with none to enter, until I broke the seal myself and walked up the steps. And what did I find there?

ALL MY PERSONAL THINGS, that’s what! For whatever sick pleasure it gave her, my sister had created a little museum to my memory, with everything from my bed to my paintings to the little rag doll I still had when Starswirl first found us- all of it placed exactly as it had been on that last day before I challenged my sister’s power. I have told her time and again not to touch my possessions, and yet there they were, hoarded from me!

Well, after that there was no question of spending another night in that place. It was like living in my sister’s warped mind, being in that palace. But, alas, though I did not sleep there, I still had to work there, for there are so many things, so very many things, that need doing.

To begin with, I had to order stonemasons and other craftsponies to go to the castle- to MY castle, in the Everfree, not the monstrosity of Celestia’s imaginings- and restore it post-haste. But I encountered a problem; Celestia’s royal guard had deserted, down to the last pony! Inconvenient as this might be, I cannot think it anything other than temporary; all but the leaders shall repent in time, once the benefits of my enlightened rule become obvious to even the dimmest subject. 

Still, there must be someone to ensure my ponies don’t leave their work, and also to ensure the creatures of the Everfree don’t molest my ponies. I cannot be everywhere at once, though my powers of illusion might make it seem otherwise. So I had to recruit a new guard, stolid warriors, mighty wizards, and agile flyers to enforce my will. And, of course, I have to interview them all personally, to ensure against any possible betrayal. Alas, since the road into the Everfree has been reclaimed by the forest, that accursed palace at Canterlot was the only place I could ask recruits to gather in. 

Thus far the recruiting has been slow, and far too many of the volunteers have been exactly the sort Celestia would have recruited, I’m sure. The toadies, the flank-kissers, the cowards, the shirkers. I discovered these easily enough and dismissed them in no uncertain terms- oh, how you would laugh to see their knees knocking as I bade them begone from my sight! But, fun as this might be, it left very few other recruits, and most of those, though mentally qualified, are physically flawed- too old, too weak, or too… to be honest, too weird… for me to entrust with a butter knife, never mind with the lives of my ponies.

I think I shall have to go abroad and recruit in person- and this shall be so time-consuming, oh Diary. And I have so very much to do- weeding out the useless ministers and leeches my sister has placed in government, overseeing the proper education of the foals and fillies, defending my kingdom against monsters and malefactors such as that accursed Discord, and (should I ever find the time or energy) resuming my duty of protecting the dreams of my ponies (a skill my sister could never duplicate). 

I find this time to write in you now only because I had a task which I could not let wait. My sister dared to deploy the Elements of Harmony upon me. It was their power which trapped me in the moon. I could not let this happen again, dear Diary, and so I sought out where they were hidden. And tonight I found them. Sadly, my sister’s corrupting touch has made them inert, transforming them into great round boulders instead of the glittering jewels they once were. I could sense no life, no power within them, and I wept for a moment for the crimes of my sister. 

Had the Elements been intact I should have returned them to the Tree of Harmony whence they came, and whence certainly no other pony could ever extract them. But the great lumps of stone which were once the Elements would not respond to the Tree, or else the Tree would not have them. 

Besides, there is one missing. I cannot know which, for in their inert state I cannot identify one Element from another. 

So, with a little regret, I destroyed them. I smashed them to dust and scattered the dust on the wind. If whoever holds the sixth Element, whatever it may be, unlocks its secrets, so be it- it has but little power without its companions. But if those companions were to be stolen, then there lies the chance, however faint, that ponies might be found who could wield them against me, and that cannot be allowed, not under any circumstances. 

But ‘tis done. They are gone now, all but one, and with them the only threat that exists to my reign. 

Long live Queen Nightmare Moon! My night shall last FOREVER!

NM

Chapter Two

Dear Diary,

For the first time since my return, I held court today. In Canterlot, alas; my own castle is not fit for such matters. I’m still trying to recruit workers for the restoration and guards to make sure they keep restoring. But there was actually a crowd of ponies seeking an audience with me- which shows their courage, I believe, so soon after losing their mind-manipulating solar tyrant. So I decided to reward them.

I confess, Diary, that I am not infallible. And to you I say, in truth, this was not a good idea on my part.

The first petitioner was a farmer- or so she claims. Although she’s an earth pony, she has an accent tainted with the tones of the useless unicorn elite. (More on them in a moment, Diary.) She had the grace to take off her hat when speaking to me, but that was the only grace I found in what was otherwise a truly sniveling example of how earth pony dignity has fallen since my banishment. (Chancellor Puddinghead’s foibles, in my opinion, only increased his dignity.)

You see, the farmer had come to plead with me to restore the sun. She claimed that the plants needed the sun for growth (as if my moon were not light enough!). She claimed that without the sun’s warmth, the land would freeze (bah! When my sister reigned the sun was the same summer or winter- obviously it had nothing to do with the weather). And, of course, she had the cheek to say that, without the bright light of day, the farmers were having trouble seeing what they were doing. 

The cheek! The gall! And the nausea, as this pony begged and pleaded with me practically every sentence, practically crawling on her belly! Well, I’ll have no truck with that, Diary! I denied the petition and told everyone in the room that, unless they could produce evidence that the crops were weakening without sunlight, they should begone upon pain of my displeasure. Which, I told them (I’m very proud of this line, Diary), would be very painful pain indeed.

That got rid of about two-thirds of the petitioners. 

The next that came up… oh, Diary, you could not know Platinum in her prime. For all her arrogance and stubbornness, there was a dignity and a grace, and above all a love for her subjects, which transcended her failings. I remember her as vividly as if she stood in this old castle today with us, Diary. And it wrenches my heart to see what abyssal depths of vanity and uselessness her descendants have fallen into, in particular her current heir, who styles himself Prince Blueblood. 

Blueblood is pretty as stallions go, I suppose, and makes a fetching subject for a portrait or perhaps even a statue. And if he had been born deaf and dumb, that would have been his best fate. Unfortunately he has a tongue and the capability to use it. Which he did, revealing that those with working tongues do not always have working brains. 

Blueblood, who had the absolute gall to call me “Auntie Nightmare,” as if any of my blood ran through his veins, began by requesting all sorts of special favors- privileges, really, for in every sentence of his whiny, rambling speech he seemed to find some new evil which commoner ponies committed upon his person by, insofar as I can determine, merely existing. He wanted the right to imprison ponies he suspected of stealing, without regard to the courts of law (which I have not yet addressed, having only so many hours in the day). He wants such-and-so commoner’s property so he can raze it and erect a summer cottage. He wants a special table at such-and-so expensive restaurant, screened so the ordinary ponies cannot stare at him. And so on, and on, and on. 

Diary, I am a nostalgic mare, and I remember fondly the friends of my youth, before my sister’s slide into arrogance and tyranny. For the sake of dearest Platinum I let the empty-headed colt babble on as long as I could stand it, a good four or five minutes I suppose. By minute three I was ready to give my sister a cellmate. By minute four I decided that, as much as I despise Celestia, I don’t hate her that much. And then, by the fifth minute, I decided that this whelp was a trap laid by my sister. She twisted his mind into this shallow, narcissistic, worthless excuse of a prince, just so my victory would be deprived of pleasure. 

Well, I dealt with that. Having reached the limit of my vast patience, I declared that, since the restoration of my castle required a supervisor, Blueblood would be appointed to organize and oversee the work. On site. In person. (But not permitted to live in the old castle- I refuse to have that nitwit under what remains of my roof, thank you very much.)

The ninny actually had the... let me rephrase, Diary. He lacked the sense granted to a goose, for he actually protested my ruling. Thereupon I offered him a choice: go as supervisor, or go as one of the laborers. And should I discover him slacking on the job, he should become a common laborer, in all senses of the word “common”, regardless. 

That pronouncement failed to find any fragment of brain that might be hiding under that pretty blond mane. Having had enough, I ordered my guards to take him away. I haven’t recruited many guards yet, but I have enough to manage a session of open court. 

I then stated that any other nobles with requests that sounded, in any way, shape or form, like the disgraceful blather spewed by Prince Blueblood would do well to take them elsewhere. I would like to say that the fact that two-thirds of the remaining ponies departed speaks well of their being more intelligent than Blueblood, but I daresay that cottage cheese shows more intelligence than Blueblood. 

This left only three ponies- a unicorn colt, a unicorn filly, and a pegasus filly, all of Canterlot. They stepped forward together, opened three small bags, and dumped the contents out at the foot of the throne. 

The bags were full of sweets, Diary- confections of which I had never dreamed back when I was but a filly and Equestria newly founded. So many colors, so many shapes, wrapped in paper and foil and this newfangled “plastic” thing. I have not eaten sweets in so very long, Diary, and I confess my mouth watered at the sight. 

But I lost all interest when the children begged their boon.

They begged me

-oh Diary I can hardly write the words-

-they begged me NOT TO EAT THEM.

I told them plainly that I have never eaten a child in my life, nor any other living creature, and I had no intention of beginning now. This generated some babble, which I sorted out with the quick and probing questions which, I admit with no false modesty, I excel at.

Of all the sins my sister has committed in her vanity, I believe this is the worst, the most cruel, the most horrific I have yet encountered. I knew she had managed to relegate my existence to folk tales. But until today I had not known that she had made this horrible celebration of me, associating my night, my BEAUTIFUL night, with fear and monsters and the dead! And- worst of all- she had turned me from a royal protector, every bit her equal in right and in power, into a bogey, a monster to keep children in line. “Be good and leave out some candy on Nightmare Night, or Nightmare Moon will come to gobble you up!”

I must find time to re-enter the dream world soon, Diary. After hearing these tales, I can see mirrors of myself in thousands of dreams, chasing, hunting down- no! I will write no more of this!

Oh, Sister, how great did thy vanity become at the end? Was it not enough that you merely hardened the hearts of our ponies against me? Why did you turn me into a monster in their eyes?

But the worst part of it, Diary, was that when I demanded that this lying ritual be put to an end, the children cried louder than when they asked me not to eat them. Only when I relented and said I would withhold judgment until the time came for this holiday- it apparently comes mid-harvest, before the Running of the Leaves- did they cease. 

It is a complicated thing, apparently. The children love dressing up in costumes (to hide from me, since apparently I will eat a small pony child but not, say, an equally small pony clown or a small pony-sized wolf, or a small pony astronaut- whatever that is). They go from door to door chanting, “Nightmare Night, what a fright, give us something sweet to bite,” and they get candy and fruit and goodies from the townsfolk. There are games and festivals. And, apparently, there are pranks- a great many pranks. 

And I approve of all these things… or I would, except they all depend on my being willing to be taken for a child-eating monster very nearly as dim as Blueblood! (Or, possibly, nearsighted, or in some other way too half-blind to recognize a pony in disguise when I see one.)

Celestia, you fiend! You entrap me within a prison of my favorite things!!

I thanked the children for their offering and sent them on their way with a promise that, far from eating children, I would protect them from any danger- and so I shall. I can only hope they spread the word. 

In fact, I shall begin protecting them tonight, Diary. My strength has recovered enough that I dare enter the dream realm again to do battle with the lesser creatures who think themselves nightmares. They shall encounter the one true Nightmare- and it shall be a brief encounter.

Trouble not my charges, foul spectres!

NM