//------------------------------//
// Champion / Charlatan 
// Story: Equinity 
// by Ice Star 
//------------------------------//

Who supports the sun? 
Shining soldiers marching to war whooping and filled with laughter
always eager to guard villages and head to battle, never thinking of after
Farmers bucking apple trees with great haste
ready to tell you their pedigree goes back to the three tribes without haste
Settlers plowing up old buffalo burial grounds
always ready to kick at the strangest sounds
Herders of sheep
selling wool at the market for cheap
All the many laborers who 
do not know green from blue
Foals who eat three meals a day
and always have time to play
Mages in stone towers teaching the approved magic
the ones who frown when you ask a question, considering it tragic
The weather-making pegasi crafting each cloud to fill a row
and who are quick to bed once the sky has lost its sunny glow
The pony whose ambitions consist of blood family
and would never stray from the wants of the community
Anypony and everypony who keeps to the law without doubt
who stick to their species and all else in the Equestrian way, never to act out
Those are the ponies that see the sun goddess as their champion
the ones who hold kotowing to the majority are the way to make a halcyon





Who supports the night?
Battered veterans whose ailments are regarded as vexing and unsightly
who pray for the souls of those who are forgotten when the stars shine brightly 
The rogue apothecary who tends to the crippled and nervous with glee
only to never demand a fee
Newcomer ponies and other species alike from the lands to the south
who hold dear the foreign words that come out of their mouth
Buffalo mourning more than lost land and pains of the soul
who read stars and fires as they shelter their calves from ponies so cruel
Sheep and cows that cannot voice a want to be more than a pony's tenant
while in their dreams, they bring to life stories of roaming the continent
The artist whose passion is to go against the grain
and is reviled as gloomy and a freak for capturing all the colors of the rain
Foals who know they are not loved by anypony far or near
and all of those mortals, young or old, whose way of being is deemed too queer
Prodigies in magic whose gifts are pure curiosity, unusual and whose talent shines while untaught
and who are feared and shunned for this, finding their relationships with others are fraught
The blind little filly high in the clouds who pioneered unique snowflakes with love and care
for everycreature who held to quality over quantity, everywhere
Those who dream of families not bound by either blood, lust, or convention
and whose ideas of love are a more awe-inspiring invention
Everycreature who has ever found themselves alone against a crowd for speaking the truth
and for their bravery, being, or form were deemed uncouth
Those who know that good and the law are not always on the same side
and for their innocent peculiarities are forced to hide
Everycreature whose only crime is not being like all others
wishes that they could call the night the mother of all mothers
For those who are without the language to say that equinity is not skin-deep but is defined by what is underneath
the silent and shadowy goddess next to the princess-regnant represents an unarticulated hiraeth
In this age long-forgotten when any slight suggestion to consider the night and those like her was partisan
hooves were quick to point at the dissent — goddess or mortal — and deem them society's charlatan