//------------------------------//
// 4. None But Heaven And You And I 
// Story: To See The Light 
// by archonix 
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	04. None But Heaven And You And I

Standing at the very highest point of Canterlot, below the tower of the royal apartments, the Great Hall of the throne room and the Celestial court bore the brunt of the storm that wreathed the city. Though the weather had eased as the sun had climbed, still the rain fell in an endless clatter against the stained glass windows depicting key moments in Equestria's history, many of which had been installed in just the last few years. A fact of which Twilight Sparkle had once been inordinately proud.

That pride was tempered now as she looked upon those same windows, tracing the path that had become obvious in hindsight. Each glass was a step to a goal of which she had known nothing. Another page turned on a story that would never finish, about a destiny she knew she could no longer reach. Her mind slid back to the tear-stained letter that still sat on the desk in her study, untouched since the day she had last read it.

You were to have been my heir...

A journal lay next to it, one of the first Twilight had found in the slow process of gathering and sorting Celestia's effects. A journal that bore her name, that had been filled with observations touching and intimate, remote and scientific, charting every moment of her life, measuring, bounding, tracking. Every dream and wish and desire Celestia held for her had been carefully recorded in her neat script between its pages.

Twilight's eyes fell to the empty throne atop the dais, surrounded by the flags of state and the collected regalia of centuries of rule. Already much was changing, as the symbols of the ended Diarchy were stripped away and replaced with a single, featureless orb, a device already quietly nicknamed the New Sun by some. A new age was dawning: not in the fanfare of trumpets or the adulation of ranked crowds cheering their ruler, but quietly, beneath the decorator's brush and the janitor's broom. Only the throne itself still bore the eternal sun of Celestia's reign, so recently interposed with Luna's crescent moon that it was still possible to smell the paint.

Without thought Twilight walked up to the dais, climbing the shallow steps to the foot of the throne, the robes of her office curling and swaying around her legs like a shroud. Once, when she had been still very young, she had found her way into the throne room and sat on that very seat just to see how it felt. She'd even 'borrowed' a set of Celestia's shoes, though they had been enormously oversized on her still-growing hooves.

She could picture herself there now, wrapped in purloined splendour, whilst one of the maids and a guard pretended she was Celestia herself as they marched back and forth at Twilight's command, much to the young filly's delight.

Of course Celestia's journal had recorded every moment of it, the entry filled with a freely declared delight at Twilight's precocious curiosity. There had been other such moments, other times when Celestia's love had shone through, unspoken but recorded. The affections of her mentor had always been clear, but the sheer depth of Celestia's feelings had come as a surprise to Twilight. The admiration, the pride in her achievements, the joy at her growth.

There had been other journals. Other students, other friends and loved ones. Records of lives lived and loved and lost to time. Memories, remembrances, letters never sent, feelings unspoken. Each ending the same way. Twilight had easily perceived the subtle mottling in the ink of the more recent journals as Celestia had recorded those final entries.

"She takes students for their entire lives."

The thought came unbidden, the memory of a conversation that had taken place only a few years prior; it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Yes," Luna had said, with her eyes fixed on the night sky. She had smiled, Twilight remembered, but it had been a sad smile, filled with longing as the Princess stared at her stars.

"Why? If she's so scared of losing us?"

"No pony is meant to be alone. Not even the sun is truly alone. She allows herself no true love for any but you, Twilight Sparkle. You are her catharsis."

As the conversation had wound on, Twilight's mind had been trapped in mundane worries and concerns of the sort brought about by the simple issues of friendship, but with the perspective granted by time she could see the pain in Luna's eyes, the fear that she might be driving Twilight away from her mentor with the revelations of that night. Had she known? Had she understood the plans Celestia had set in motion?

It felt as if the crest had filled her entire vision, floating over her and spanning the entire sky like the sun from the dream she had shared with Dinky.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was barely a whisper. Twilight lowered her gaze from the crest and closed her eyes. She wondered why she spoke. Even if Celestia could hear her, what would she have said?

At the sound of hooves stepping quietly up the steps Twilight turned, shaking her head. She opened her eyes to find a young stallion and mare watching her. Their gazes subtly shifted toward the crest on the back of the throne; she could see another of the new insignia resting in a cradle on the stallion's back. With a curt nod Twilight stepped back to grant the pair access to the throne and then turned away.

Then she paused. Her gaze took in the room, the weight of its history, the bustle of ponies as they prepared the space for the new incumbent. She looked back at the crest affixed to the throne and then at the two workers, who watched her carefully.

Twilight indicated the crest with a nod. "Bring that to my chambers when you're finished. See that it isn't damaged."

"Ma'am," the mare replied with a bow of her head. She nudged the stallion; he mirrored the gesture a moment later and they set to work, while Twilight watched from a short distance. In what seemed like moments the crest had been loosened and pulled free. Twilight couldn't help but wince as it was lowered to the floor, no matter how much care they two might take. Removed from its place behind the throne, the device seemed curiously flat and lifeless. Empty. As if it were—

She didn't care finish the thought. Before long the two workers had fixed the new crest in place above the throne and backed away to admire their work. Twilight moved closer to examine the crest. It was a sunstone, probably the largest she had ever seen, polished to spherical perfection. Even in the storm's gloaming it seemed to glow with an inner fire as it gathered the light of the room to its depths.

Her eyes strayed to the throne itself. For a moment she hesitated, one hoof resting on the lip of the low seat, remembering the feel of it. The plain fabric upholstery had been replaced since she had last seated herself there. Again her gaze was drawn to the new crest, and the fire that still burned within it.

With a smile she turned and nodded to the pair, bidding them leave. They hesitated a moment. Then, with a shared shrug, they lifted the old crest between them and returned to the door. The smile fell from Twilight's face as she watched them depart with final remnant of her old life.

She turned and seated herself on the throne.

The doors of the throne room opened wide mere moments later, admitting a small knot of ponies, all wrapped in the finery of their station. Twilight forced a welcoming expression to her face as they approached, her eyes lingering for a moment on Sure Stride as he marched at their head, resplendent in his new Captain's dress uniform. As he drew close, Twilight could see a little discomfort in the way he carried himself. The newly minted Captain smirked as he noticed her attention, and rolled his eyes with all the subtlety of a falling boulder.

Several of those approaching faltered as they saw who occupied the throne, particularly the First Minister, Alabast Star. He glared at her in open shock and leaned across the whisper something to the pony accompanying him, before turning his glare on another, elderly stallion to his left. The elder unicorn ignored Alabast's gaze as he adjusted his bonnet.

The group drew to a halt at the foot of the dais and the same elder unicorn stepped forward, doffing his cap as he bowed to the throne. "Your excellency Regent Sparkle, it is an honour to see you this morning."

"And you, Lord Steward Brightstone," Twilight replied as the unicorn restored his cap. To the Lord Steward's side, Alabast grit his teeth and stepped forward. "And good morning to you as well, sir Alabast. I hope you found Parliament in good order."

"Well enough, my lady," he allowed, though his jaw was still tense as he spoke. He turned slightly to take in Brightstone. "On that topic I feel it behooves to speak on their behalf to ask whether Parliament was to be informed of this development."

Brightstone's cheeks puffed out behind a snort. "The Regency? All quite temporary, I assure you, and entirely above board," he huffed, turning awkwardly to face Alabast. He held his right leg stiffly as he moved, placing his weight as far forward as he was able. Twilight found herself wondering if that were the reason he wore trousers. "The Court felt it expedient to appoint a Regent until her Highness the Princess is formally crowned. Archmage Sparkle had already demonstrated her leadership skills quite handily during the recent unpleasantness, so naturally we felt she was the best suited to take the role. Although it's unlikely her Highness would have accepted anyone else."

"And yet..." Alabast's brow knit together and he looked across at Sure Stride, as if seeking support. "It does seem rather unilateral."

"If Parliament had been available for consultation..." Brightstone cleared his throat again, letting the unfinished thought linger for a moment. "Besides, you know as well as any that such a request would be tied up in committees for months."

Twilight rolled her ears back and tuned out the bickering. It was a little fact of her life she had forgotten, after just a few days. The emergency – a word that did little justice to what had nearly been the end of the world – had resulted in a short period when the ponies around her had responded to requests and orders with prompt obedience rather than all this pointless debate and argument. They had all been united in the single goal of survival. Not any more. The return of the strict protocols of palace life were starting to grate on her. A week free of the ceremonial fluff that had become so much of Twilight's life had spoiled her completely, revealing a freedom and immediacy of action that had become entirely alien – and once had been entirely familiar, in a time when she had nothing more than her wits, her books and her friends to rely upon.

As the pair continued to mutter argument, Twilight found her eyes sliding across the rest of the group. There were one or two nobles she vaguely recognised as allies of the crown – Celestia's crown, at least – and several of their advisors. Alabast had brought Sir Huphrey with him, perhaps in his role as Cabinet Secretary, or perhaps merely as moral support.

The debate showed no sign of ending, friendly as it seemed. She caught Sir Huphrey's eye; he cocked an eyebrow at her, then coughed into his hoof and looked away.

"All I am saying is that there is simply no precedent for the appointment of a Regent without the express approval of parliament!" Alabast glanced at Twilight and frowned. "I am fully aware of the more personable traits of her Ladyship—"

"Her Excellency," Brightstone grumbled.

"The legitimacy of such title is in fact the matter of debate, sir!"

Grunting as he fought against his stiff leg, Brighstone wheeled awkwardly on Alabast and jabbed him square in the chest. "Damn you sir, and damn your debates! This isn't parliament, this is the Royal Court, sir, and I refuse to see it sullied by such indecorous behaviour! Rein your tongue, sir!"

"I see you would use the same excuse to toss away centuries of democratic representation as well, sir!"

"Gentlecolts, please." Twilight held out her hoof to the group. "Interesting as this argument has been, I feel it behooves us to pay attention to the matter at hand."

"Should have listened to the Toris," some anonymous member of the group muttered. Alabast heaved back and grit his teeth, but managed to retain at least some control over himself. He bowed his head a moment later.

"Of course," he sighed. "Forgive me if I appear belligerent, Archmage Sparkle. It has been a stressful time for all of us."

"Regent." Brightstone looked away and coughed, ignoring Alabast's pointed glare.

"We are, of course, here to discuss the issue of the succession," Alabast continued, returning his full attention to to Twilight's face. Or almost. Occasionally his eyes would flicker to the orb at the head of the throne. With a flourish of his hoof, Alabast began indicating the ponies to his side. "Might I present Baroness Saved of Long Stroll, representing the Independent Parliamentary Oversight Committee. Peach Melba, Tori shadow Secretary of State for Home Affairs and chair of the Parliamentary Select Committee for Appropriate Appropriations, and Sir Huphrey you of course already know..."

Twilight nodded to each of the ponies as they stepped forward with a slight bow. The introductions continued for a while, but Twilight found herself forgetting their names almost immediately, which was perhaps just as well, as each seemed inclined to do little but stand and be seen by her. She found herself watching Baroness Saved's bright blue mane, fascinated by the way it bobbed when she stood back up again, and then the way it framed what was a very familiar face. A smile reached the Baroness's face when she realised how intently Twilight was watching her. She bowed her head again once the introductions had finished.

"If I may, Regent Sparkle, if my face appears familiar to you, it's likely because you went to school with my sister, Moondancer."

"Moondancer? She never told me she had a sister..." Twilight frowned and tapped her hoof on the throne. "Of course I didn't really give her much of a chance. It's good to meet you, Baroness Saved."

The Baroness bowed again, making way for Peach Melba, who with her fuzzy yellow-orange coat and creamy white mane lived up to her name quite remarkably. She bowed her head to Twilight, before retrieving a pair of spectacles from her short pocket and placing them delicately on her snout, their bright blue rims only emphasising the grizzling grey that streaked either side of her muzzle. A flash of her horn summoned a sheet of paper, which she perused quickly before peering over her glasses at Twilight.

"I assume, Archmage, you are already aware of the—" Melba's ears twitched at a grumpy cough from Brightstone. She rolled her eyes; Twilight couldn't help but giggle at the sight. "Forgive me, your Excellency. You are already aware of a certain amount of discomfort over your choice for the location of our esteemed new ruler's coronation, I believe?"

"We thought it would be a good way to demonstrate how different things will be." Twilight shared a glance with Sure Stride as she spoke. "It's close to Canterlot, but still far enough to be recognisably not Canterlot."

"But why Ponyville? Surely other venues would have been more appropriate?" Again Peach Melba consulted her paper and a little pout developed on her lips as she reached the bottom. "Trottingham, for instance. Or Manehattan. Both cities are sufficiently of the people to allow a show of solidarity with the common pony, without compromising the provision of suitable amenities for what will be a significant influx of guests. Were there other considerations in play when you made the decision, ma'am?"

Before Twilight could reply, the Baroness stepped forward and put herself almost between the pair, raising one hoof a little. "If it please? Miss Melba, I cannot feel that it reflects well on our argument to hint at accusations of personal bias over this issue. It is entirely a matter of logistics."

With a sweep of her well-tended hoof that managed to gently propel Peach Melba aside, Baroness Saved brought herself before the throne and smiled at Twilight once again. "And, if I might be so bold, our intent first and foremost was to seek reassurance that such concerns were being address. Nothing more, and nothing less. Is that not correct, Alabast?"

"What? Oh." Alabast looked away from his silent glaring match with Brightstone and shuffled at his dress robes. "Of course. Reassurance. Logistics. Sir Huphrey?"

"Indeed, Chancellor, the logistical concerns are one of an array of issues over which the cabinet and the opposition both have raised some need for consideration. Parliament itself has no objection to allowing this event to proceed inter-alia whilst performing a thorough oversight of the broad scope of concerns related to the greater whole that this novel experience represents, and you may be assured that an appropriate response shall be provided to you to present to their Highnesses—excuse me, to her Excellency and her Highness – with regards to the absolute official position of the government on the desirability of such actions as might be taken to rectify any potential conflicts of interest recumbent upon the matter, in due course and the fullness of time, with an eye to generating a fulfilling and equitable relationship between the crown and the government, taking into consideration all aspects of every possible avenue of investigation into whatever matters might arise as a result—"

"Yes, yes sir Huphrey, I get it, you want another dratted Select Committee. Give it to, oh, that new chap in Provincial Affairs, let him deal with it." Alabast frowned again as he turned his attention to Twilight. His hoof came to rest on his mouth for a moment as he watched her warily – a distinct change from his usual view of her – before it dropped to the ground with a thud. "Well, it would appear that's largely settled."

"B-but the nature of—"

"Oh be quiet, Melba," Alabast cut in. "Your lot are always on about the down to earth and true-blooded character of the provinces, why not go experience it for yourself? Do you good to get your hooves deep on the muck for a change."

To the murmur of general assent from the nameless crowd at their backs, Peach Melba glared at Alabast for a moment before pointedly folding her papers and stepping back to the group.

"If that's all, then?" Twilight watched the crowd, most of whom appeared to be little more than hangers-on. Visible bulk for the spectacle of the thing, there to be seen in Court rather than actually do anything in it. She glanced at Sure Stride again; the guard Captain nodded and signalled to the hoofcolts stationed by the main door of the throne room, who heaved at the broad, gilded doors as the assembled ponies returned toward them.

Except, that was, for Baroness Saved, who hovered uncertainly by the foot of the dais as the others departed. She glanced at the doors, then at Twilight, and beckoned at her to descend. After a moment's hesitation, Twilight slid from the throne and stepped down to face the Baroness.

"Forgive me, your Excellency—" she began, but Twilight held up a hoof to silence her.

"I prefer Twilight. Or Archmage if you insist on a title. I'm more used to that one."

"Of course... Archmage Sparkle. Twilight," Saved amended at the sight of Twilight's almost hidden frown. She glanced up at Sure Stride, whose impassive gaze was fixed on some distant point. If Twilight didn't know better it would be easy to think he's all but fallen asleep. "It is a rather sensitive issue."

"Sure Stride is as trustworthy as they come," Twilight replied.

"I am certain the Captain's input would be invaluable. Nevertheless..." Baroness Saved shuffled a little closer to Twilight, turning her face away from the Captain to speak again. "I wouldn't want to discuss this in open court."

Intrigue. Twilight had managed to avoid most of it, even despite her rising power, but there had been the odd moment when some noble or other had approached her seeking favour with the Princess, and offering favour of their own. She'd ignored them entirely, as she was sure Celestia would have done. Nevertheless, the name of it was... appropriate. She nodded, slowly, the way she had seen ministers of state do when they were trying to look thoughtful.

"Captain, I'm taking an early lunch. You may return to your duties."

Sure Stride bowed and trotted from the dais without a second glance. He really did look quite dashing in his uniform, Twilight mused, before quickly stomping the errant thought away.

"What I wouldn't give for a few hours alone with that one," the Baroness murmured, as if completing Twilight's thoughts. She grinned at Twilight as they turned to cross the throne room in the opposite direction.

"I think his wife might complain."

"A mare can dream, can't she? Oh, by the way." The Baroness paused as they reached an arched hallway at the rear of the great hall. "If we're avoiding titles, I would be grateful if you called me Penny. Celestia only elevated our family a generation ago and I've never really been able to get used to the whole thing. Only inherited it the year before last."

"Oh. I think Moondancer wrote to me about that. I'm sorry."

The Baroness bowed her head a little as they continued along the corridor, hooves clumping and muffled on the well-worn carpet. Twilight found herself mentally counting off the doors as they moved toward the small apartment she maintained here. Strange to think she still hadn't seen what was behind most of them – offices, most likely, for the myriad civil servants and functionaries who apparently kept the government from collapsing into chaos by sheer weight of their numbers.

As they reached the door to her own private space, Twilight realised that the Baroness hadn't spoken for some time. She pushed open the door and ushered the Baroness inside, barely paying heed to the stack of letters that had somehow appeared on her desk by the far windows in the time she had been away. She glanced at an empty plant pot in the corner, and wondered if she should make the effort to fill it again.

Despite the clatter of rain on the slender windows at the far end of the room, Twilight's voice sounded unnaturally loud when she spoke. "You said this was a sensitive issue."

Baroness Saved shook herself from her contemplations; she looked about the room, taking in the wood panelling and a portrait of Celestia over the fire, and for a moment her gaze held on the stricken crest of the Diarchy propped up in a far corner. Turning from the sight, she frowned at Twilight, but nodded. "There are matters the discussion of which I would rather some ponies be unaware."

Twilight settled herself on a couch opposite the fireplace and motioned for the Baroness to join her. "Go on."

"First and foremost, the means by which their Highnesses were so tragically taken from us remains a mystery. The fact of that mystery, the fact that we cannot plan for it, nor counter it, raises a threat to the stability of our system of government." Baroness Saved rose from her seat and paced toward the empty fireplace, still crusted black with soot and filled with the ash of the prior week's winter. "Given how confused things have been recently, you can probably understand that some influential ponies are a little nervous at the possibility."

"Nervous? They were a panicking herd of mindless animals!"

"Quite," said the Baroness. She turned from the fireplace, her bright red eyes falling on Twilight for some time before she spoke again. "You haven't discovered a reason for these events, I take it?"

Twilight shook her head and sighed. "I've been looking through Celestia's effects, but so far I haven't found any indication she expected this, let alone that she knew what it was. As for the scope, she and Luna both were the ancestors to several of Canterlot's noble families in the distant past, which might help explain some of the disappearances. Others... without a mechanism we have no idea."

For a moment it seemed as if the Baroness was going to add more to the point, but instead she pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "Then we are faced with the possibility that our sovereign and a random assortment of our political elite may simply disappear one day, and our only hope of any continuity is that the Princess might have a chance to invest her succession upon a capable pony before she goes. You can imagine this thought does not sit well with some. There have already been demands for a contingency should it happen again, possibly some reconsideration of our constitutional arrangements. Which brings us to the second issue."

Taking a deep breath, Baroness Saved stepped away from the fireplace and meandered back toward her seat. She paused over it, frowning, and shook her head.

"Might I ask a personal question, Archmage Sparkle?" She looked toward Twilight, and after a moment's thought Twilight gave her a curt nod. Baroness Saved smiled as she carefully resumed her seat. "Do you trust the competence of her Highness?"

Twilight opened her mouth, but the affirmative answer she wanted to give caught in her throat, and for a moment felt as if it might choke her. With a grimace she swallowed, closed her mouth and nodded, but the hesitation had apparently given Baroness Saved what she wanted to hear. Though nothing in her demeanour had obviously changed, nevertheless the Baroness seemed to wilt a little; her leg slid from the chair and she began to tap her forehooves together. Lightly, barely making a sound, but loud enough that Twilight could just perceive it.

"I trust her," Twilight affirmed. She leaned forward. "Celestia wouldn't have chosen her if she didn't believe she could fulfil her duties."

"Perhaps," Baroness Saved replied. "But I recall from conversations with the First Minister that she was chosen essentially by chance, when Celestia's preferred successor could not be found."

"I've heard it better described as fate." Twilight leaned back and narrowed her eyes. "And if you're aware of that much, then you're aware that I was Celestia's chosen successor and that I failed in my duty to her when I was most needed. I do not intend to repeat that mistake, Baroness Saved, nor do I believe my personal feelings toward her Highness have clouded my judgement in any way. Celestia placed her entire trust in Princess De Raptura. I don't believe any of us are in a position to question that trust."

"Of course. Forgive my presumption, Archmage Sparkle." Baroness Saved bowed her head and closed her eyes, before taking a breath. When she opened them again she smiled, just a little. "I don't pretend to understand what you must feel right now, Twilight. I wanted to speak to you of these matters so that you might be kept aware of them. If I seem a little overbearing, it's only because I'm used to dealing with ponies who examine your motives every time you buy a sandwich."

"Fortunately I don't have to deal with ponies like that much," said Twilight. "And I'm fairly certain Der—her Highness won't concern herself with them either."

A gust rattled the windows with a fresh torrent of rain, silencing the pair for a moment. Baroness Saved turned her head to watch the rain as it sluiced down the window, and let out another deep sigh.

"She would do well to pay them heed, Twilight. The disappearances left a power vacuum, and for every noble seeking the Crown's favour and influence, there is another seeking to snatch anything they can get their teeth on in order to fill that vacuum and elevate their station. Some even have their eyes on the seat of Canterlot itself. They will use whatever means they can to take that power, Twilight." A hoof strayed to Baroness Saved's mane, and she toyed idly with a lock of it, before abruptly pushing the hoof back against the couch. "I only wish more of we mortals deserved the trust you place in her Highness."

Another brief smile played across Baroness Saved's features as she stood. She trotted for the door, but paused at the threshold to look back at the room; first at the crest in the corner, and then at Twilight. A final smile and a bow of her head, and the Baroness was gone, with the door closing quietly behind her.

Twilight leaned back in her couch, and contemplated the door for a few moments.

"I wasn't prepared for any of this," she muttered, as she turned her gaze to the rain outside.