> When Heavens Divide
>  by Mediocre Morsov
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------

> 1
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1


Not for the first time, Spike questioned his role in Equestrian society. Celestia's teachings had been his only instruction growing up, but they applied solely to ponies. Their caste system was reflected in Celestia's doctrine, and nowhere did it make mention of the other species inhabiting their world. Spike's own breed, the dragons, were viewed with the same contempt as many others for their different worldview, seen as little better than the changelings.

Of course, Spike had helped turn a few ponies around about both races. The scaly-skinned fire-breathers were beginning to embrace Equestrian philosophy and law, while the changelings were full heartedly converting to it after ousting their queen. Even the acerbic griffons had begun to rebuild their ruined realm, deciding to do it in the image of the stable and powerful Equestria. It was quite convenient how all these lands and beings, with their radically different views and cultures, were suddenly adopting the practices and beliefs of the one species they had despised - until being bested by a pony champion, more often than not. The only race who hadn't converted entirely, yet were on wonderful diplomatic terms with them, were the yaks.

Yet, despite all the conversion, Celestia didn't make any moves to integrate them into the coalition of pony city-states. She was fine to cooperate and coexist with these "independent" races that now suddenly behaved according to her standards and morals, yet she had no plans for how immigrants or refugees from their allies would function in her utopia. It seemed almost as if they were unwelcome - as if only those with pony blood would ever be accepted and integrated into the world she had created.

And, Spike supposed, that wasn't uncommon. After all, he had learned from his experiences with the more insular species like his own dragons and the changelings, that outsiders were typically detested. What made it odd, though, were Celestia's teachings on inclusion, tolerance, and acceptance. The dragons, the changelings, and the griffons never taught such ideas, so it was not strange to see their lands and subjects viewing others with displeasure, but the realms of Equestria? Despite their teachings, non-ponies were viewed and treated as second-class – a fifth caste beneath even the earth ponies.

Spike had dealt with that subtle prejudice his entire life without thinking about it. He was born and raised a servant to Twilight Sparkle - now a Princess with her own godlike powers, but once a unicorn. Even the earth ponies had some measure of self-determination; Spike had none. Now that he came to realize his place in his adoptive land, he realized how sickeningly kind Equestrian prejudice was. The ponies viewed him as an oddity, crowding around him in wonder when they didn't outright ignore him. They were never rude about it, naturally, never using any racial slurs or assuming he would behave as a stereotype, but they treated him... differently.

"What's wrong, Spike?" Starlight Glimmer asked.

Spike looked at her, wondering if he should voice his concerns. Starlight Glimmer would likely be the most receptive, being a former radical idealist and secessionist. Now, though, the powerful unicorn was Twilight's most faithful student. Her only student, true, but Twilight hammered in Celestia's teachings as surely as Her Majesty herself would.

"It's nothing," he lied, scratching at the scales of his face.

"Come on, Spike," Starlight snorted as she finished sorting her section of the library, levitating books in sorcerous light, "I know it's only been, like, a year, but we've spent enough time together to know each other. I know you're lying."

"It's just," Spike shrugged, "I feel like this system isn't working out..."

"It's the same system every library in Equestria uses," Starlight pointed out, "I think it's pretty efficient."

"No, not the cataloguing system," Spike sighed, "Equestria's system." After a moment, he added in a whisper, "Celestia's system."

Starlight stopped, her stack of books gently floating to the table she was working at. She spared an unreadable look at Spike that made him fidget.

"How so?" she asked.

"Well," the drake avoided eye contact, "there's nothing in her teachings about non-Ponies, except that you can be friends with them and they can learn Equestrian ways..."

"And you've proven that," Starlight smiled, warmly, "Not only are you an example of that, but you helped prove that for all dragons, and the changelings, too. Rainbow Dash proved it for the griffons, as well."

"Y-yeah," Spike agreed, "but that's not what bugs me. What bugs me is Celestia's teachings don't explore it... further."

"Further?"

"Well, it's great that our races and lands can interact and everything, but what about integration?" Spike had trouble with the bigger word, hoping he was using it correctly. Fortunately, spending enough time scribbling Twilight's messages down had helped him learn much in Equestrian language.

"Why would she need to teach about integration?" Starlight giggled as she returned to placing books on shelves with her magic.

"What if a dragon or griffon wants to move to Equestria?" Spike asked, "Or if something happens to the changelings and they need to move here as refugees?"

"Then we treat them as one of us," Starlight shrugged, as if it were that simple.

"But why isn't there anything about it in Celestia's teachings?" Spike pressed, "She's always had so much foresight - she planned things out a thousand years in advance, right? She probably planned out the peace between Equestria and her neighbors, and yet, she never thought to teach her subjects about what to do in the event that beings from our allies want to move here?"

"Why would they?" Starlight asked, "I mean, yeah, they're learning how to be better by taking to Celestia's teachings, but why would they ever want to leave their homeland?"

Spike narrowed his eyes at the 'better' comment and what it implied of his species’ culture.

"For the same reasons ponies have always moved," he pointed out, "Does it matter why they move?"

"It might," Starlight said, "Most of these guys hated ponies for a long time. I don't think they're all chomping at the bit to be our friends. It's likely the ones wanting to move here are dragons or even changelings that still hate us and want to hurt us. After all, if they were good guys, why aren't they staying in their lands where they belong and helping improve them?"

Spike bristled at Starlight's comments and felt hurt that she seemed oblivious to the insults she was dishing out.

"I'm one of 'those guys'," he pointed out with enough bitterness that Starlight turned around, surprised. Rather than apologize, she gave a patronizing smile.

"Oh, Spike, I didn't mean you," she chuckled, "I mean... you know, the bad ones."

"I've met more bad ponies than I've met bad dragons," Spike shot back.

"Ouch, easy there," Starlight gave a nervous giggle, but Spike kept going.

"Trixie, Flim and Flam, King Sombra, you," he counted on his fingers, "and I've heard of plenty of others, too! Should I assume all ponies are bad because of that?"

"Where is this coming from?" Starlight asked, getting angry. Her anger only made Spike angrier.

"You ponies," he growled, "all you ever do is judge the rest of us by your standards. I'm considered a good dragon because I behave like you, engage in your culture, and follow Celestia's teachings! Yet, am I treated like a pony? Do I have the same rights as you?"

Starlight felt her growing anger shrink at those remarks. They struck an entirely different chord with her, and she remembered how much she struggled with learning about friendship.

"You have the same rights as us," Starlight knew it was a lie as she said it.

"No I don't!" Spike laughed, "I was born into servitude! Don't get me wrong, I like my job, and I think Celestia's teachings are great, but I am not considered equal with you. There's a very big equality issue in this country."

That did it. Starlight felt as if she had reawakened from a long sleep. There had been many factors that led to her becoming a political radical, an idealistic secessionist from Celestia's teachings and the Equestrian way. She had been distracted by the fact that, at the root of it, she had started down that road for the petty reason that her closest friend had been taken from her. She had also felt discredited by her own dishonesty and corrupt attempts to hold onto her power. After all, how could she be a champion of virtue if she wasn't virtuous?

"You're right," she said simply, dousing Spike's ire in two words, "I've always noticed the inequality of Pony customs. Of course, I was always focused on the Cutie Mark aspect of it. I never even considered how other races must feel."

"I actually liked your idea, even though I didn't see it," Spike admitted, "I think it could use some improvement, though."

"In retrospect, maybe stealing everyone's Cutie Mark with sorcery - and by extension, their actual ability - was a bad idea," Starlight confessed, "I just had such a vendetta against them..."

"Do you still?"

"The talents, no," the rogue unicorn shook her head, "but the Cutie Marks... those are unjust. No pony should be locked into their career, nor should they be given an unfair edge because of it. How is it fair that Filthy Rich is rich, while Apple Bloom and her friends have to spend the rest of their lives as career consultants?"

"They actually enjoy their job, but I see your point," Spike nodded agreement, "What do we do about this, anyway?"

"Well, taking over a small village and bending ponies to my will is a bust," Starlight joked, "We should compose our ideas and present them to Twilight."

"I'm not sure about that..."

"What's the problem, Spike?" Starlight giggled, "Twilight will help us, I know it!"

“I’m not so sure,” Spike repeated, looking over his shoulder as if the Princess of Friendship might be eavesdropping, “She’s very loyal to Celestia. Twi might not like that we’re questioning her teachings.”

“I think she’ll surprise you,” Starlight smirked, “Twilight might be a hardliner, but I think she’d appreciate our points – if we took the time to build a case for them – and would present the ideas to Celestia, herself. After all, she’s always going on about improving systems and making things more efficient, right?”

“Yeah,” Spike shrugged but was still unconvinced. Twilight always treated him as a kid brother and rarely took his suggestions seriously. They were as close as siblings, to be sure, but he was still an indentured servant while she was godlike royalty.

It wasn’t long until they approached the Princess of Friendship, studying within her sanctuary: the library. Even though Spike preferred comics and other, more visually-stimulating media, even he would look at the filled shelves in awe, amazed at the powerful knowledge gathered under a single roof. Sure as the sun would rise, there was Twilight, speed-reading through ancient tomes as if it were a simple leisure for her. The young dragon cleared his throat, snapping Twilight out of her reverie and rustling the purple-plumage of her wings. She turned with surprise, but smiled warmly at her favorite assistant and acolyte.

“It looks like you two have something on your minds,” she giggled as they approached. Her smile faded at their unease. “If there’s something bothering you, please tell me.”

“Well, now that you mention it,” Spike chuckled, wringing his hands, “Starlight and I have some ideas on how to… improve upon Celestia’s teachings.”

“Oh?” Twilight shifted her focus to her student. It was a little odd to have a student of a student suggest improvements for the doctrine they had been schooled in, but Twilight was open to suggestions. There was also a certain amusement she felt, as Starlight’s former mentor, about her student’s outspoken and darker point of view. It was always interesting to study the friendships and behaviors of ponies who had radically different relationships from her own.

“Actually,” Starlight nudged Spike forward, placing him in front of her, almost as a sacrifice, “Spike is the one who really came up with it. Tell her what you told me, Spike.”

The dragon muttered something dark under his breath before taking a calming breath.

“Um, in a nutshell,” he mumbled faster and in a higher pitch than he wanted to, “I thought, maybe, Celestia didn’t really think about all the other races in her plan.”

“Races? Plan?” Twilight quirked an eyebrow, “I’m not sure why, but hearing those words in the same sentence makes me uneasy.”

“Probably has something to do with that other dimension,” Starlight Glimmer chuckled, “When I was there, boy did I read some interesting histories about-”

“Anyway,” Spike cleared his throat and regained some control over his voice, “What I mean is that I’ve never really understood where I fit in Celestia’s teachings. All of her works are directed towards ponies: how ponies should behave towards one another and other races, how ponies should work within their society, how ponies should structure their classes…”

“Oh, is this another identity crisis?” Twilight tutted, looking almost patronizing with her sudden motherly affection. Spike tried not to bristle in rage as she wrapped a wing around him; she was only trying to help. “Spike, I thought we’ve been over this; you are a pony. Remember the last few times you tried to live with the dragons?”

“Yeah,” the youth muttered through gritted fangs, “I helped abolish their ancient practices and encouraged them to consider Equestria’s way of doing things.”

“And helped pave the way for greater peace between our races!” Twilight beamed, completely missing the tone with which her assistant had spoken.

“Let me try explaining it another way,” Spike sighed, “How are Cutie Marks supposed to be applied to dragons? Or griffons? Or changelings, for that matter?”

“Why would they need Cutie Marks?” Twilight snorted, “They aren’t ponies.”

“Yet we expect them to live by Celestia’s teachings – which are designed exclusively for ponies?” Spike pointed out.

“Oh, Spike,” Twilight wore that discomforted expression he had come to associate with her not knowing an answer, “they don’t have to adopt all of our ways.”

“Why should they have to adopt any of your customs?” Spike challenged, startling himself as well as his friends.

“Spike, do you… do you not consider yourself a pony anymore?” Twilight asked, softly. She looked heartbroken.

“N-no, I do!” the dragon stated, “I just… the dragons are my heritage. The magic in my blood binds me to them, remember? I don’t know how I feel that the society I should have been born into is being forced to change thousands of years of tradition, even if I don’t like those traditions.”

“They aren’t being forced,” Twilight said, an edge of defensiveness entering her tone.

“Twilight, Equestria is ruled over by the super-powerful princesses who control night and day,” Spike deadpanned, “and protected by the Elements of Harmony – six mares whose combined powers can vanquish any pony, even the God of Chaos. All the lands we’ve changed – the dragons, the griffons, the yaks, and the changelings – respected conquest as the right to rule. By having the most power, aren’t we sort of forcing them to accept our ways?”

“They aren’t following our teachings because they see us as the most powerful,” Twilight chided, “they’re following our teachings because they see that we’re right!”

“Oh, so everyone else in the whole world is wrong?!” Spike demanded. Throughout the entire exchange, their voices had become louder and more aggressive; Starlight shrunk away, eyes wide at what she was seeing.

“Yes!” Twilight snapped back.

Deathly silence prevailed, suddenly, as both Princess and Assistant realized all that they had thrown at each other. Faces flushed in shame and frustration, they broke eye contact, scowling and trying not to cry. Starlight only gaped, unsure of what to say or do to repair the situation.

“Let’s go, Starlight,” Spike murmured, “I told you she wouldn’t listen to reason.”

“Oh, I’d listen to reason!” Twilight snapped as Spike trudged out of the room, not even stopping to look back, “What I won’t listen to is half-baked philosophies from a… a… dragon!”

Twilight huffed in an effort to calm her enraged breathing long after Spike had left, trying to ignore a stunned Starlight. Finally, though, she collapsed against her table, slamming her head into its surface and burying herself beneath her forelegs and wings, groaning in misery.

“W-well,” Starlight attempted to lighten the mood, cracking a smirk, “that escalated quickly.”

“I really messed that up, didn’t I?” Twilight groaned from her fortress of limbs and feathers. Starlight could see one violet eye peering out from beneath, crying.

“It could have been worse,” Starlight shrugged, “I mean, you didn’t send him to the Moon or turn him into stone.”

Twilight forced a flat glare at her former student, but sighed.

“Celestia needed to do those things to protect Equestria,” Twilight defended her mentor.

“I know that,” Starlight nodded, “but you have to admit, it’s a little odd that after defeating all of Equestria’s major enemies, the Princesses are sending you on missions to these other lands to convince races there to adopt our way of living…”

“Oh, not you too…”

“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing!” Starlight added, quickly, “But Spike’s right; there’s not a whole lot in Celestia’s teachings about what to do in order to integrate non-ponies into Equestrian culture.”

“What do you mean?” Twilight climbed out of her little pit, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

“What Spike was trying to say before was that, well…” Starlight shrugged, “Celestia built Equestria for ponies. The law reflects our race and is only worded for our race. Other races are bound by their own magic – we can’t interbreed, despite being similar, and Spike has proven that his dragon blood connects him to the dragons, no matter how much he wants to be a pony.”

Starlight shook her head, realizing she was getting off-topic.

“The point that he was trying to make was that Celestia wants the world to act like Equestria – to be harmonious, united, friendly, and all those good things – but the laws of Equestria, and Celestia’s teachings, don’t address issues about integrating different races into Equestria.”

“Why would they?” Twilight snorted, “I mean, just because other races and lands are living in harmony, it doesn’t mean we all have to be in the same place.”

“But if we’re harmonious, isn’t it better to intermingle and allow the free exchange of citizens between cultures?” Starlight asked.

“Yeah, but why would they want to?” Twilight asked, “They have their own lands and traditions; why come to ours?”

“I asked something similar,” Starlight murmured, “The point is, if we’re trying to create a united world, why aren’t we preparing for the inevitable? Beings from all over are going to want to travel and embrace each other’s cultures, and all the world’s cultures are going to change as a result. Even Equestria’s.”

“Ours won’t change,” Twilight smirked and Starlight saw some of that pony arrogance Spike complained about.

“Why not?” she asked her former mentor, “Because ours is the superior culture?”

Twilight glared at Starlight, but didn’t want to drive away another of her misguided friends.

“I think I need some time alone to collect myself,” the Princess stated, flatly, “I… don’t want to get into politics right now, seeing how that went with Spike. I’ll apologize to him later, but please let me have some alone time.”

“As you wish,” Starlight gave an exaggerated curtsy, smirking with some of her old venom, “Princess.”

With both of them gone, Twilight realized how empty her library seemed, despite the shelves brimming with ancient tomes of wisdom and power. It suddenly seemed far colder in her realm than it should be, especially with the sun gleaming in through the open windows. Everything felt muted – the light, the color, the sweet sounds of wind through branches and birds singing. Twilight sighed as she mulled over what her friends had confided in her, and at how their strong opinions made them so hostile.

There was no logical reason for it. After all, Celestia’s teachings were flawless. The reason she never saw fit to include plans for races outside of Equestria was obviously because she expected them to develop their own doctrines based on her teachings, but relevant for their own species. As for integration, that too was obvious – Celestia didn’t want one world where cultures and races blurred together, but a world of independent species who were harmonious, like the different elements of nature working together. No, everything Celestia taught her made sense when she thought about it. Non-ponies weren’t going to integrate in Equestria; they had their own lands and cultures.

Twilight’s self-confidence withered as she thought about Cranky Doodle, Matilda, Zecora, and Spike. The first three were of races similar to ponies, but Spike was a full-blown dragon. He hadn’t even had a choice on whether or not he wanted to be part of pony or dragon culture. Why didn’t Celestia have rules regarding integration? She was the one who brought Spike into Equestria and allowed open borders, wasn’t she? Shouldn’t she have plans for it?

Twilight figured it was as good a time as any to reach out to her old mentor and address these new problems…
> 2
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2


Twilight had thought her letter out to the best of her abilities and read over the points brought up by her former student and her number one assistant. She absentmindedly scribbled ink on her chin with her quill as she read and re-read what she had written. Her eyes glanced up at the flustered pair sitting across from her at the table. Things were stilted between them, but she was doing her best to repair the relationship – namely making sure all their concerns were addressed in the letter.

“Alright, so I’ve mentioned Spike’s concerns about how non-ponies are to play a part in Equestria in the long-term, and how the various lands will react to possible globalization as a result of Celestia’s teachings on harmony,” Twilight levitated the quill – now dry of ink – down the list, “and I’ve mentioned Starlight’s concerns about equality, and the legitimacy of Cutie Marks. Additionally, I decided I’d tag my own concerns regarding public education and how much power a Princess can exercise within her realm; maybe I can find solutions for these problems in Ponyville, then recommend them to the other Princesses.”

“Sounds good,” Spike released a pent-up breath, allowing himself to relax a little as he realized how much Twilight was sticking her neck out for his concerns.

“This is… really cool of you, Twilight,” Starlight smiled, abashedly, “especially after how things ended last night. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” the Princess returned the smile, “I know how some ponies get with politics and laws… no pony enjoys being told what to do, especially if the laws don’t make sense. I’m sure Celestia will respond with answers that will put all our minds at ease. Before we send this, were there any other concerns?”

Starlight looked to the dragon, questioningly. Spike looked conflicted, and Twilight wondered what he could possibly have confided in Starlight that he wouldn’t confide in her. She had no way of knowing that he was troubled by the fact he had been born into service to her, but he couldn’t bring himself to tell her that. In fact, he suspected she’d allow him to follow his own career whenever he felt comfortable enough to leave. After all, he may have been born to servitude, but he was by no means condemned to it.

“No, that’s everything,” he said, forcing a smile.

Twilight chose to believe him despite the disquiet in her heart, returning his smile and rolling the scroll. She handed it to him. With a quick breath of green flame, he sent the document on ethereal winds to Celestia herself. Not for the first time he wondered if other dragons had this ability, or if it were some enchantment with the parchment. When things eased between the two of them, he’d have to ask Twilight.

“Now all we do is wait for the reply,” Twilight beamed, “What should we do in the meantime?”

“I already promised to help Rarity with another gem hunt today,” Spike admitted, “If you’d rather I hang out with you instead, I’m sure Rarity would understand…”

“Oh, no!” Twilight shook her head quickly, trying to cover her disappointment, “That’s perfectly fine! Starlight and I can have some fun with magical studies, right Starlight?”

“Um…” Starlight chuckled, nervously, “I also have plans… Trixie’s planning a new magic show with Discord, and she needs my help with a few of the acts. We were going to do rehearsals, but I kept putting them off… If I cancel today, I don’t think she’ll speak to me for weeks!”

“Oh,” Twilight looked away, biting her lip, then smiled confidently, “That’s alright, I forgot I had plans, too!”

“Really?” her friends asked together. Since when did Twilight forget plans?

“Y-yeah,” the Princess looked around, desperately, “I’m going to hang out with…”

While searching for an answer, the doors opened and a scowling Applejack entered with an abashed Apple Bloom in tow. The elder cow-pony opened her mouth to speak but Twilight beat her to it.

“I was going to hang out with Applejack and her sister today!” the Princess declared, stunning the two farmers, “And here they are! Well, let’s go!”

Twilight quickly gathered the two and absconded, ignoring their protests. Starlight stared flatly at the escape, knowing well when her mentor was lying, but Spike – ever the naïve assistant – gave the Princess the benefit of the doubt. They nodded to each other before departing for their own respective meetings.

Moments before exiting the castle, Applejack stopped Twilight with her impressive strength, firmly putting her hooves down, immediately arresting their movement. Twilight looked over her shoulder to make sure neither Starlight or Spike were listening in.

“Sorry about that, but I needed an excuse to…” Twilight grimaced, “I’m sorry. Applejack, what did you need help with?”

“Why don’t you ask this little troublemaker?” Applejack gestured in the direction of her younger sister who shrank back in embarrassment.

“Apple Bloom,” Twilight sighed in exasperation, “what did you do this time?”

“I may have tried my hand at potion-brewing again,” the redhead avoided eye contact, grinning nervously.

“What kind of potion?” Twilight noticed Applejack blushing beneath her glaring.

“Just a teensy love potion…” Apple Bloom said, making a space between her hooves to enunciate just how ‘teensy’ it was.

“After what happened with Big Mac and Cheerilee?!” Twilight hoof-palmed.

“It wasn’t that strong!” Apple Bloom grimaced, “I’ve had a lot more schooling in these arts, you know. I did study it before making it…”

“But why?”

“Well, Applejack’s always going on about how little money we have,” Apple Bloom said in her southern drawl, “and Flim and Flam said I could make some easy bits if I made them a love potion – a teensy love potion – for them…”

“Oh boy,” Twilight deadpanned.

“They said it was for a personal problem, and, well… they weren’t lying,” Apple Bloom looked at Applejack, wincing at the withering glare her older sister gave her.

“Oh, Applejack, they didn’t try to use it on you, did they?” the Princess looked aghast.

“Heavens to Betsy, no!” Applejack stood taller, “I would never have fallen for it, anyway. I wouldn’t drink anything from those swindlers, even if I was dying of thirst!”

“Wait, so what was the love potion for?” Twilight looked back at Apple Bloom when she saw Applejack blush and shut her mouth tighter.

“I can’t be certain why,” the younger farmer said, “but they both split the love potion to fall in love with my sis, here.”

“What in the name of Celestia possessed them to do that?!” Twilight gaped, wondering what possible angle those two idiots could be working.

“When I asked them, they said they had crushes on her, but neither of them had the courage to confess, so they needed the potion to give them a push,” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes, “Knowing those two, however, I wouldn’t be surprised if this is all part of some plot.”

“Whatever their motivations,” Applejack finally spoke up, “they haven’t given me a moment’s peace in a week! Everywhere I go, they’re on me like ugly on an ape! I tried ignoring them by going to my happy place, you know – bucking apples. Every time I stop and wipe the sweat from my brow, there they are, mouths hanging an open, tongues lolling out, and drooling like… like… dogs!”

“I thought it was a might bit flattering,” Apple Bloom muttered, brushing her hoof against her chest and trying to suppress a smirk at her older sister’s death glare.

“Have they been scamming anyone?” Twilight asked.

“Nope,” Apple Bloom shook her head, “I’ve been spying on them the few times they’ve been away from sis. All they do is wander around, love-struck, talking about how great she is and fighting with each other about who should marry her. I think they want to share her…”

“Of all the scummy little…” Applejack’s tirade became garbled mutters as she tried to spare her younger sister the worst of her curses.

“Well, I can’t really do anything in this case,” the Princess confessed, “They haven’t done anything illegal. They drugged themselves – not you – and if anything, besides harassing you, their behavior has improved. The potion will wear off eventually, right?”

“Definitely,” Apple Bloom nodded, “Like I said – I did my research.”

“I’m sorry AJ, but you’ll just have to wait them out,” Twilight sighed. Why did every stallion fall for the farm-pony, anyway? Twilight felt a twinge of annoyance that, even as a Princess, she couldn’t seem to attract a partner. She shook the thoughts from her head. “Anyway, I’m awaiting an important reply from Princess Celestia and was hoping we could do something while I wait; preferably something to get my mind off of the subject.”

“Important reply, huh?” Applejack let her anger dissolve, knowing there wasn’t much that could be done, anyway, “Must be pretty bad if you’re wanting to distract yourself.”

“It’s not bad, just…” Twilight double-checked that it was just the three of them, “Spike and Starlight had some concerns about Equestrian politics and Celestia’s teachings, is all.”

“Spike?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow, “I didn’t know he cared about politics.”

“What kind of concerns?” Applejack asked.

“He’s worried that there’s not really a place for non-ponies in Equestria; he thinks Celestia wants the whole world to live by pony standards, but she doesn’t want them to actually be part of Equestria.”

“Why would she?” Applejack snorted at the idea, “They have their own lands; why would they want to be part of ours, especially if Celestia’s teachings help them prosper?”

“He said something about how converting them destroys their identity,” Twilight made a conjuring motion with her hoof, struggling to remember her assistant’s exact words, “I couldn’t really understand what he was worried about.”

“Oh, I think I get what he’s worried about,” Apple Bloom nodded, picking up on the idea.

“Really?” Applejack looked at her younger sister with some disbelief.

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom smiled, “Zecora talked a bit about pony influences in her homeland, and how they’ve been changing the culture there. Near as I can tell, though, she’s the only one living here. I can see how Spike would be concerned. I mean, we’ve been telling the whole world to be like us, but how many of them do we really view as ponies? Ponies still look down on Zecora because she doesn’t follow our ways.”

“Who does?” Twilight asked, bewildered.

“Ponies,” Apple Bloom shrugged, “You hear it, sometimes, when ponies think no one’s listening. I’ve heard ponies badmouth all sorts of non-ponies, even Spike. Which is weird; that guy acts more like a pony than we do, sis.”

“Well, every barrel has a few bad apples, sadly,” Applejack scowled at the idea of her neighbors insulting her friends.

“I thought everyone embraced Celestia’s teachings of understanding…” Twilight murmured, wondering if she were as in-tune with her subjects as she should be.

“Didn’t Spike have to throw his reputation and life on the line just to save Thorax from the citizens of the Crystal Empire?” Apple Bloom pointed out, “Near as I can tell, ponies aren’t as enlightened as they claim to be.”

The youngest Apple shook her head.

“Anyway, I’m getting off-track,” she said, “The point I was trying to make is I can see where Spike is coming from, from my time studying with Zecora. Our practices are being adopted by all these other species, but we refuse to adopt any of theirs because we act like they’re bad, or something. Then, even after they’ve traded everything they had to be like Equestria, we don’t even treat them like equals. It’s insulting, really. If I were in Spike’s shoes, I’d be…”

She trailed off as she realized who she was talking to, paled considerably, and sketched a curtsy.

“Er, sorry, Princess…”

“Don’t apologize, Apple Bloom,” Twilight smiled disarmingly, but she felt a tug at her heart. Why were those closest to her acting so afraid to voice their opinions on the matter? “I am curious, though… how do you view Spike’s position? Don’t be afraid.”

Apple Bloom looked at the ground, not wanting to speak. Applejack spoke up, instead.

“Well, Twi, you have to admit,” the older cow-filly shrugged, “Spike ain’t exactly treated like every pony else…”

Twilight only tilted her head, not understanding.

“How do I put this…?” Applejack rubbed the back of her neck with a foreleg, “I’ve known y’all for a few years now, and I’ve only ever seen Spike work for you, or scrounge around in the dirt for Rarity. As far as I know, he hasn’t really known a life outside of being your assistant.”

“Which isn’t a bad thing!” Apple Bloom added, hurriedly, “I mean, we don’t know life outside of the farm, exactly…”

“You… think Spike might view himself as some kind of prisoner?” Twilight looked heartbroken at the suggestion. Spike was her closest and oldest friend, and she held him in her heart as something beyond brother and son; he was practically a piece of her soul, if she were being honest. The idea of her hurting him all these years and not even realizing the insult she had made of his existence… She shuddered at the thought.

“I doubt he thinks that,” Applejack chuckled, easing her mind a little, “The little scamp loves his job – and you. Though, telling him he’s free to live his own life would probably reassure him.”

“Do you think he’d leave if I offered him the chance?” Twilight asked herself more than them.

“If it was only a onetime chance, maybe,” Applejack said, “but if you tell him he’s free to go whenever, and that you wouldn’t hold it against him, then I doubt he’d take it.”

“I don’t think he’d like looking for jobs, anyway,” Apple Bloom said, “A lot of ponies still hate dragons, and I’ve heard some pretty bad things said about Spike around town, from ponies you’d never expect to hear them from, too!”

“Who are these rattlesnakes?” Applejack snorted, baring her teeth, “Make fun of my friend, will they?”

“AJ, violence won’t solve anything,” Twilight couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her friend bucking a few bullies through the air, though, “I’ll double my efforts to educate the citizens of Ponyville about tolerance. Apparently we seem to have been slipping in that department.”

“Besides Zecora – who’s a recluse – and Spike – who never leaves your side – nobody’s really been exposed to non-ponies,” Apple Bloom pointed out, “Well, other than the changeling takeover.”

“Which probably wasn’t the best impression of foreigners, heh…” Applejack shifted her hat, “Shoot, you’re right, Twi. All these ponies need is to be shown that we ain’t so different from dragons, or any pony else. Heck, I remember I was the worst of the lot who persecuted Zecora, and now she’s practically family with how much time she spends with Apple Bloom.”

“I have faith in our subjects,” Twilight giggled, “Now, what should we do? I haven’t been out much this past week, so it’ll be nice to hang out with my friends.”

They headed for the door. Applejack was opening her mouth to suggest they see what Rainbow Dash was up to when the Princess opened the door. Applejack felt her eye twitch with the supreme effort of not killing the two stallions beyond the portal.

“Oh, hello there, my sweet little Apple!” Flim cooed, ignoring the Princess entirely to get closer to the farm-filly. He was shoved aside by his brother.

“You’re looking more ravishing than ever!” Flam wrestled with his brother for her attention, but neither of them could tear their eyes off of her.

“Oh, brother!” Applejack groaned, hoof-palming as her cheeks turned a rosy hue.

“Aren’t you two a little old to be lusting after Applejack?” Twilight asked, bringing herself up in her most regal posture. It was enough to erode a little of whatever was addling the swindlers’ brains, but only a little.

“Er…” Flim exchanged a look with his brother, then looked back at the farmer, “You… you are sixteen, right?”

“The age of consent in my kingdom is eighteen!” Twilight huffed.

“That’s what he said!” Flam lied.

“Oh for pity’s sake,” Applejack rolled her eyes, trying not to let the fact they assumed she was so young flattered her show, “I’m in my twenties!”

“A fine apple blossom, such as yourself?” Flam gaped, “Impossible!”

“Surely one so virtuous and pure must be fresh out of school!” Flim agreed.

“Twilight,” Applejack almost begged, “if you don’t do something, I can’t be held responsible for what happens to these two… two… I don’t even know what countryism would work here!”

“Alright, alright!” Twilight sighed, turning to face Flim and Flam, “You two would probably love to get a gift for Applejack, right?”

“Absolutely!” Flim said as Flam exclaimed “Indubitably!”

“There’s a special kind of apple that only grows in the snowy plains of Yakyakistan,” Twilight told them, “I can send you there immediately, with a commerce license, if you want.”

“Anything for my perfect peach pony!” Flam sighed.

“You mean the apple of my eye!” Flim got in his brother’s face.

“Good enough for me!” Twilight summoned the licenses, shoved one in both brother’s vest pocket, then teleported them to the distant land. She turned, smiling at the stunned Apple sisters. “Well, that’s settled.”

“T-Twi, you didn’t need to send them all the way to Yakyakistan!” Applejack looked a little horrified.

“Relax,” Twilight snorted, “The licenses are actually a request to the yaks to look after them until the potion wears off. I imagine the cold will help clear their heads.”

“Pretty sly, Princess,” Apple Bloom nodded approvingly, giving a devious grin.

“Well, I guess it gets them outta my hair for a while,” Applejack chuckled, “Why don’t we see what Rainbow Dash is up to?”

“The more the merrier!” Twilight giggled, following her friend.


…


Celestia was always pleased to receive a letter from her star pupil, Twilight Sparkle, one of the newest Princesses in all of Equestria. It was always a pleasure to hear about her growth, even after graduating her studies and acquiring her own throne – even more so since she became less formal. If Celestia were completely honest with herself, she viewed her protégé as something like the daughter she never had, or at the very least on the same level as her blood niece, Cadence.

This letter, however, was one she had not foreseen, even with her near-infinite wisdom and magical scrying. The Princess of the Day wasn’t sure which was worse: the fact Twilight had to bring up the subject at all, or the fact her little Spike had felt threatened enough to voice his fears.

Celestia didn’t even notice the approaching hoofsteps until her sister Luna spoke.

“Is there a problem, sister?” the Princess of the Night asked, dark eyes glittering with familial concern, “You seem distracted.”

“My apologies, Lulu,” Celestia smiled, abashedly, “I have just received a strange letter from Princess Twilight, the contents of which give me some concern.”

“Another long-defeated foe has revealed themselves?” Luna asked, arching an eyebrow as Celestia levitated the letter to her.

“I could almost wish it were so…” the older of the two sighed, “No, it seems my former student has discovered the grave concerns of her subjects.”

“I see…” Luna’s eyes flickered over the parchment, “Poor Spike. It seems he feels his treatment is unequal.”

“Not only that, but he has pointed out a flaw in my teachings regarding interaction between the races,” Celestia said, earning a questioning look from her sister, “I have none.”

“For someone who foresaw my redemption one thousand years before it unfolded, I find that a shocking oversight,” Luna mused as she continued to read the points in Twilight’s list.

“Not too shocking if you recall I failed to see what was right in front of me,” Celestia admitted, “If I had noticed your distress earlier, then such foresight would never have occurred. The point is, despite my scrying, I have a tendency to overlook the obvious.”

“Like foreign policy with other races?” Luna asked, “Globalization would be a pressing concern now.”

“Ugh,” Celestia groaned, burying herself in her wings and forelegs in a childish way Luna found amusing, “I didn’t think there’d have to be policies. The Map sent the Elements of Harmony across the lands, and they work to its designs. All I did was guide Twilight to it, as was my part. I never thought I’d have to find ways to deal with immigration and the status of other races within my realm as a result.”

“It seems like the solution is obvious, given your teachings and the principles of harmony,” Luna pointed out, “You have always taught that we should be open and compassionate to those around us. Simply amend your lessons to extend that ideal to all races instead of all ponies.”

“Even if I did that,” Celestia sighed, “I doubt many ponies would listen. I decided to do some research since I discovered my name is used as an expression, and I’ve learned that – even with all Princess Twilight has done – my teachings are largely ignored. Some ponies view me as an omniscient deity – they call us goddesses! – and even they fail to embrace their sisters and brothers. Did you realize we have a caste system? I didn’t!”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it a caste system, since it lacks rigid enforcement…” Luna chuckled, then coughed when she saw her sister was unamused, “There is certainly a disproportionate amount of power to certain breeds, I will admit. Just look at Canterlot: it’s almost entirely unicorn, and you yourself exclusively train unicorns. Royalty is almost exclusively alicorn or unicorn, too.”

“Do not force me to confess that I am blind, dear sister!” Celestia threw her hooves up in frustration, “I am the head of state of Equestria, and viewed as the de facto leader of all ponies, whatever land they belong to. Even zebras and donkeys are so similar to us that they are viewed, from the outside, as belonging to my domain! For some reason, I am viewed as the ruler not only of Equestria, but the Crystal Empire, and Ponyville, and every other pony city-state!”

“They… they do not view me the same way,” Luna stated rather than asked. She had already been aware, of course; after all, while Celestia was stuck dealing with politicians and affairs of state, Luna visited the dreams of their subjects. Dreams taught her a great deal of how their subjects viewed their realm. “I had always assumed you knew about these views.”

“Of course not!” Celestia scoffed, “I didn’t want to be worshipped! I wanted my subjects to prosper under an egalitarian society built on tolerance, kindness, and acceptance. A thousand years alone, struggling with the guilt of banishing my troubled sister… I didn’t want anyone in the world to feel that way.”

“That is sweet of you to say,” Luna admitted softly, before smirking, “Still, you can hardly build an egalitarian world while feudal institutions and aristocracy are still around.”

“I control the heavens themselves,” Celestia snorted, a smile tugging her lips, “and frankly I’m not qualified for any job outside of leading a kingdom. Besides, collapsing our state would only destabilize the world.”

“We could attempt a transition to a more democratic system…” Luna began.

“Not that silly republic idea of yours, again?” her older sister arched an eyebrow.

“Starlight Glimmer’s concerns should not be dismissed simply because they go against tradition,” Luna warned, “The Cutie Marks do unjustly benefit ponies. They are clear and readily-visible symbols that allow others to judge a pony’s worth based on their occupation. It also ties into the race issue; where would the species who don’t have Cutie Marks fit into Equestria?”

“They are magically-acquired symbols of personal talent,” Celestia laughed, “and the tradition is even older than we are. Even the two of us together can’t undo it.”

“I prefer to think we are younger than the tradition,” the younger joked before growing serious again, “Still, it might go a long way to easing the fears of the ponies – and Spike – if we allowed some sort of forum, or agency for them to have a voice in government.”

“Fears?” Celestia narrowed her eyes and Luna winced at her slipup, “Lulu, what fears?”

“I should not have spoken,” the Princess of the Night sighed, “Many of our subjects feel trapped, powerless, or otherwise limited. They are ruled over by elites who have the sanction of – in their eyes – all-powerful goddesses. If they aren’t governed by unicorns with sorcerous powers, then they are governed by pegasi or earth ponies with obscene wealth and influence. They have no voice in choosing their leaders, and the only way to get into positions of authority are either by birth – by the Cutie Marks – or by some pony higher in command elevating them.”

“It has worked for more than a thousand years, and we have prospered and grown as a culture,” Celestia said, calmly, “I know some are frustrated and feel trapped, but they need to see the bigger picture and realize they live in a secure realm where no one starves and every pony has a job.”

“On the matter of our culture growing, this also relates to Spike’s concern about where other races are supposed to fit in,” Luna went on, “Haven’t we continued to send colonists into the heartland of Equestria, where they have displaced or outright conquered native races?”

“If you’re referring to the buffalo tribes,” Celestia sighed, “they were not conquered; they are friends of Appleloosa now.”

“Only after the intervention of ponies,” the Princess of the Night pointed out, “Now they are surrounded by ponies, with ponies building a growing colony in the heart of their ancestral homes, forced to adapt their customs to, and rely on, pony standards. In time they will be integrated into the Equestrian way of life, their lands just another part of Equestria, but as Spike is quick to point out, we have no laws guaranteeing their status as equal citizens.”

“Alright, alright!” Celestia snapped, “I admit I made a gross oversight! We shall remedy it immediately. Guard! Bring me some paper, an inkwell, and a quill!”

“Er…” the guards at the doorway hesitated at the sudden order, “Your Majesty, you have other obligations to attend to…”

“Do I?” Celestia asked, icily, “The matter at hoof, if left unattended, could erupt into an inferno of tension between the races and even the lands of world! What do I have to do at this very moment that is more pressing than that?!”

The Royal Guards looked at each other, surprised.

“Today is when you head to the World Friendship Summit…” the nearest guard noted, calmly.

Celestia blinked. It had been her idea, a meeting between all the friendly lands of the world, an extension of the more-famous Convocation of Creatures that was meant to address the leaders of city-states more than a single hierarch of an entire race. Of course, so far the only lands sending emissaries were pony lands, the dragons, the changelings, the griffons, and the yaks. The Summit hadn’t really had a working title until recently, but Celestia had always made an effort to host or attend any effort at the lands banning together to address harmonic issues. How had this slipped her mind?!

“That starts today?!” she asked, horrified, “That will take all week, at least!”

“Perhaps,” Luna preempted her sister’s panic, “I could draft the amendments to your harmony lessons regarding other races and lands in your absence.”

Celestia felt her ruffled feathers ease at the offer. She studied Luna levelly.

“Are you sure it will not interfere with your regular duties?” she asked, “As I recall, you become rather exhausted each night.”

“I will assign one of my personal guards to take over my decorative duties for the time being,” Luna smiled, “A pity, since it’s one of my favorite tasks, but you are right that this requires our immediate attention.”

“I’m not sure…” Celestia tapped her chin with a hoof, “I would feel more comfortable if I were there to help compose it…”

“Do you not trust me?” Luna seemed hurt.

“No, that’s not it at all!” Celestia assured her sister, “It’s just that… well, this might sound silly, but I was sort of hoping we could work on it together. It would be the first addition to my lessons on harmony since your release that I’d be involved in composing. Twilight’s made a few additions, but I haven’t really helped, and I wanted this to be a joint project between us.”

“Oh,” Luna blushed, visibly flattered by the sentiment, “If that is what you’d like, we could put it off until after the Summit.”

“What if something happens in the meantime because of this oversight?”

“Tia,” Luna smirked, “if no pony has abused the oversight in a thousand years of your rule, then I’m sure one more week won’t hurt.”

“Yes,” Celestia gave a terse laugh, “I suppose you’re right.”

“Of course I am,” Luna snorted, “Now, prepare for the Summit. You don’t want to be late.”

“Ugh…” the Princess of the Sun rolled her eyes, “Okay ‘mom’!”

The two sisters shared a laugh at their rarely-exposed childish sides. The needs of leadership often kept them from enjoying the simpler things. Celestia departed to get ready while Luna watched her leave. Slowly the smile slid from her face and she glanced at the forgotten scroll again.

Surely there would be no harm in establishing a dialogue with the concerned party. To better assess the situation and pull together some information during Celestia’s preoccupation with the Summit, of course. Then they would have a far easier time with it. Luna smiled, pleased with her own degree of foresight.

Celestia would be so proud.
> 3
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


3


Celestia waved to her subjects from her chariot only two hours later. It seemed like all of Canterlot was there to see her off, kept a respective distance back by only a handful of Royal Guard. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride at how well-behaved they were; she only ever needed a few guards posted at large distances, confident her subjects would never attempt to harm her. It had always been to avoid seeming a dictator, to avoid giving the impression that she kept them in check with military force. She didn’t want her subjects to fear her.

She continued to smile and wave outwardly, but it fell from her lips as the pegasi guards drawing her vessel took off. The idea had occurred to her that her subjects might fear her directly and that was why she required so few guards to hold them back. She had such a reputation for omnipotence, of being a goddess, that it was very likely even the most atheistic subject would – on some subconscious level – be convinced of that divinity. Who would, they likely thought, ever make an attempt on her life when she could harness powerful magic to destroy them?

The only individuals to ever raise a hand against her were no ordinary foes, but ones with almost equal power – sometimes even more powerful. Discord, the God of Chaos. Chrysalis, former Queen of the changelings, who while lacking her power had been able to use guile and cunning to usurp her position. Her own sister, corrupted by jealousy into Nightmare Moon… A hundred others besides, all defeated in her youth and many imprisoned in Tartarus.

Celestia cringed at the idea she had a secret prison housing enemies for eons.

She would have to attempt at reviewing her policies, and try to get back in touch with her subjects when she returned from the Summit.


…


Luna tapped her hooves together as she waited for a response. She hadn’t made any serious inquiries yet, but had explained in her letter that she wished to discuss the concerns presented to her and Celestia. The initial letter was a formality, asking if the two hours after moonrise were open for the fellow Princess. As the seconds passed on, Luna wondered if she could even receive letters from Spike, and worry got the best of her.

What if they didn’t respond until traditional mail could reach her? What if they accidentally sent the letter to Celestia? Either way, her older sister might think she was going behind her back!

Fretting, suddenly, she tried to think up a solution. She needed to communicate instantaneously with Twilight and the concerned parties to get more information, but she lacked the magic to do so. She needed her own magical messenger. Who was qualified? Who could she even get there instantly? It was early in the night, but she’d need someone from outside Canterlot, and that would take too long!

She grimaced as she realized her only alternative.

“Discord, Discord, Discord!” she chanted in rapid succession, evoking the deity of anarchy.

She felt a pressure in her head for an instant – a dizziness that, for the blink of an eye, allowed her to experience untold realities. Then it was gone and a serpentine abomination she had come to call an acquaintance had manifested before her. Even after more than a year of association, Luna still found herself tense in Discord’s presence. He was chaos incarnate, after all. As an agent of order and harmony, Luna naturally distrusted that which was unpredictable.

“You rang, my dear?” the deity smirked with a flirtatious air, though she knew he only did that to antagonize her.

“Hello,” Luna said through gritted teeth, having to breathe a little to calm herself, “I summoned you because I need your help.”

“What?” Discord sneered, “Tia can’t be bothered to help pick up your slack? Really, Luna, can you do nothing without her?”

“Discord, I didn’t bring you here to insult me…” the Princess of the Night seethed.

“Oh, relax, Princess!” Discord guffawed, clearly amused at her repressed anger, “I’m only trying to get a little revenge.”

“Revenge?” Luna asked.

“Evocation is a very annoying thing, you know,” Discord’s smile faded, “I was in the middle of a cross-dimensional reunion with my sibling Gods of Chaos, and I know four brothers in particular who will be violently angry that I left during a poker game.”

“I didn’t know you had siblings…” Luna tried to hide her horror.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Discord laughed at her discomfort, “They cannot exist in my dimension any more than I can theirs; we just meet up at the convergence point of all possible realities every few millennia to trade notes.”

“I honestly cannot tell if you’re joking or not.”

“Why don’t you tell me why I’m here, Princess?” Discord asked instead of elaborating.

“Right,” Luna nodded, “I am trying to establish a dialogue between myself and Princess Twilight, but I do not know if she can reach me through letter or not. I need to talk with her as soon as possible, and you are the only one I know of who can put us in immediate contact.”

“Oh, is that all?” Discord chuckled before snapping his fingers. Immediately they were atop the Map in Twilight’s castle, startling the gathering of the Princess of Friendship and her friends. “There you are, M’lady!”

“Discord!” Luna snapped, “You can’t just send me halfway across Equestria without notifying the Royal Guard! I have duties to attend to!”

“Oh, relax, Princess!” Discord rolled his eyes, “Tell you what; I’ll put a return spell on you so you automatically return back to Canterlot in, oh… let’s say the stroke of midnight?”

“That seems a long time…” Luna said, looking at the stunned faces of her subjects and fellow Princess, “but this matter does need much discussing, so I shall allow it.”

“Allow it, right…” Discord muttered under his breath as he snapped his fingers again, “Alright, now if you don’t mind, there’s a family reunion I need to return to before things get messy.”

“Oh, you’re not staying, Discord?” Fluttershy asked from her throne, looking crestfallen.

“I would love nothing better than to spend time with you, Fluttershy,” after a moment, the deity added, “and to pester Lulu and Twily while they try and play politician, of course. Sadly, I should return to my reunion at the convergence point of all possible realities, or… well, I’m not really sure what will happen, since it’s a gathering of chaos spirits.”

“I thought there was no concept of time at the convergence point of all possible realities,” Fluttershy noted, “or in any chaotic dimension, for that matter.”

“Why, my dear, wherever did you learn that?” Discord gasped.

“I’ve been studying chaos magic theory and interdimensional physics from Twilight’s library,” Fluttershy held her head up high as Rainbow Dash, Rarity and Twilight gaped at her, “Oh, sorry Twilight. I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some books…”

“No, no!” the Princess said quickly, grinning, “That’s great! Better than great, actually! I finally have someone to talk to on the subject! Plus, what good is a library if you can’t check out books?”

“What in Equestria possessed you to start studying such…” Rarity rolled her hoof, trying to be tact, “…difficult subject matter?”

“A simple desire to understand one of my closest and dearest friends,” Fluttershy said. Discord approached her, and they embraced hands to hooves, smiling warmly.

“They seem about as friendly as Lyra and Bon-Bon, don’t they?” Applejack whispered to Rainbow Dash, who nodded agreement.

“Before things get even more derailed,” Twilight said, standing from her throne, “what was the reason you came to see me, Princess Luna?”

“I have come on behalf of my sister to gather more information regarding the issues of your earlier letter.”

The others in the room all shifted their gaze to Twilight who had quit smiling. She had managed to push the issue from her mind for a day, spending time with her friends in order to alleviate the anxiety. Now she realized that, aside from Spike delivering Luna’s earlier letter and the two of them having no idea how to send a response, Twilight had not seen Spike or Starlight Glimmer in that time.

“I believe we should discuss this in private,” Twilight said, “You girls continue without me, but if you can find Starlight or Spike, please send them to my study. They should be there with us.”

“I did find it odd he wasn’t with us at all in the last twenty-four hours…” Rarity tapped her chin, thoughtfully.

“Starlight has been busy helping Trixie with a magic performance,” Pinkie Pie said, “but it is super weird she wouldn’t spend at least a little time with us.”

“I’ll explain their absences later,” Twilight sighed, “Right now I’m trying to resolve a political issue.”

“Anything we can help with?” Applejack asked.

“I’m not…” Twilight looked hesitantly at each of her friends, including Discord. They all came from different backgrounds, social statuses, careers… She could use their input on this, and she was never one to shut them out before. “Alright. We should get as many opinions as we can, but we need Spike and Starlight as well. Discord…?”

“Hm?” the spirit of chaos looked up from braiding Fluttershy’s hair, “Oh! No problem.”

With a snap of his fingers he brought Spike – in a pink apron and clutching a broom – and Starlight – wearing a strange assistant’s outfit with fishnet stockings – from wherever they had been hiding. All gathered blinked at Starlight, who blushed vividly. Discord let out a whistle, earning a quiet, displeased “Humph” from Fluttershy.

“Discord!” Starlight groaned. With a snap of eagle talons, Starlight was out of her costume. Visibly calmer, she sighed. “Thank you.”

“What, uh… what sort of trick are you and Trixie working on?” Applejack asked.

“It’s just an assistant’s outfit!” Starlight assured them, “It’s taken Trixie months to convince me to wear it, and on the one day I do, I have to get teleported into the middle of… Oh no, Trixie’s going to kill me for disappearing!”

“Relax, I’ll take the heat,” Discord chuckled, “What can she do to me, anyway? She’s still upset that I had to leave for my family reunion.”

“Believe me, I know,” Starlight muttered.

“I guess cleaning the castle can wait until tomorrow…” Spike muttered, removing his apron and placing it on the nearest surface, neatly folded, “Princess Luna? This wasn’t exactly the response I imagined when we sent the letter…”

“I wanted to discuss the matter further, to gather more information, before my sister and I addressed the problem,” Luna explained, “Consider this an investigation.”

“A royal investigation?!” Pinkie blurted, “Discord, hide my stash!”

“Stash of what?!” the immortal asked, wide-eyed.

“I’m going to assume Pinkie is just being… Pinkie,” Twilight giggled, “Now, let’s get down to business.”

“One of your major concerns was the lack of attention given to other species in Celestia’s teachings,” Luna said, drawing curious expressions from most of the mares gathered, “I would like to say, on behalf of my sister, that this is admittedly an oversight on our part. It was never her – our – intention to ignore non-ponies, and we wish to amend this. That said, we would like more information on the subject.”

Spike blinked as the Princess of the Night turned her starry gaze upon him. Only after everyone else did, too, did he realize they were waiting on him.

“Oh!” he gasped, “Um, let’s see… what did I say earlier? Well, I wanna start by saying much of Celestia’s teachings are useful to everyone, regardless of race. I mean, I full heartedly agree with them, but… there’s no laws protecting non-ponies, and none of her teachings specifically say they should be treated equally.”

“Alright,” Luna nodded, scribbling notes with levitation, rubbing her chin with her hoof, “I shall propose amendments to the laws that guarantee equality for non-pony immigrants and lessons in welcoming neighbors.”

“Well, while we’re on the subject,” Spike coughed, “I feel a little… patronized.”

“Patronized?” the Princess’ eyes widened and Spike blushed as the mares around him moved closer in concern, “What do you mean?”

“As I told Twilight earlier,” Spike steadied himself, “I’m considered a good dragon because I follow pony customs and culture. Most of my kind are seen as bullies.”

“Aren’t they?” Luna asked without thinking, only seeing Starlight and Twilight’s cringing after the words had left her lips. To his credit, Spike only grimaced.

“Dragons have been around about as long as ponies,” Spike said after smoothing his features, “They have their own language, customs, and culture. Their history is more violent, and their laws are less forgiving, but they have survived as a powerful race for thousands of years. I’m not saying I agree with their raids and bullying, but I don’t think we should think of them any less just because of it. Were ponies any different, so long ago?”

“Spike, where have you been learning this stuff?” Twilight asked, wide-eyed.

“Your library?” the dragon arched an eyebrow at the obvious, “I’ve been studying dragons a little, lately.”

“Any particular reason…?” Starlight ventured.

“Does it matter?” Spike bristled, causing an exchange of worried expressions among his friends, bar Discord.

“I suppose not…” Starlight conceded.

“Spike, you do understand that we can’t support the dragons – or any species – if they engage in unnecessary violence,” Twilight warned.

“I’m not saying you should,” Spike explained, “but other parts of our… their culture are being eroded by pony influences. Their art is changing, their language is changing, their laws are changing…”

“It’s all part of the cultural exchange, darling,” Rarity gave a ladylike laugh of amusement, “Trading in the arts only enhances culture for both parties.”

“I agree,” Spike nodded, “but… I’m not seeing any dragon influence on pony art, language, or anything. I don’t see a griffon impact, or a changeling impact, or any impact on pony culture, but I see pony culture impacting everything it touches.”

“Well, maybe it’s just ‘cause they like our stuff better,” Rainbow Dash suggested, eliciting winces from her more tactful friends, “What? I mean, our culture is the best – it produced me, right?”

“Not a very solid argument,” Applejack chuckled.

“Shush!” Rainbow snapped, “Anyway, I think the dragons have a lot of cool stuff. Spiked armor, fiery infernos, lots of dragon artwork – it’s all awesome! But ponies like to wear the winning colors, if you know what I’m saying.”

“Rainbow!” the cow-filly spoke up again, “That’s taking it too far!”

“That was pretty mean,” Fluttershy agreed.

“Very tactless, even for you,” Rarity murmured.

“No, she’s right,” Spike nodded, grimly, regaining all their attention, “Equestria has won. It’s moved in and outright defeated all of these races, forcing them to submit to their ways and teachings.”

“That’s not true!” Twilight snapped, startling her friends even more than Spike had.

“Oh really?” her assistant bared his fangs, “Germane, Saddle Arabia, Equestria, and a dozen city-states besides are all city-states of ponies, spread across the world! You’ve spread everywhere! The Appleloosian colony moved right into the middle of the buffalo tribe’s ancestral lands!”

“Now, hold on a minute!” Applejack tried to defend her cousin, but Spike ignored her.

“I know Chrysalis was a threat, but did we have a right to completely destroy their society?” the dragon asked, “Thorax and the others are happier now, yes, but their culture is completely different, and they made no lasting impact on ours! I feel awful for my part in changing the dragon and the changelings without making any alterations to Equestria. There should have been an exchange!”

“Well, maybe they’ll adapt,” Fluttershy suggested, “As you’ve said, the changelings already like their new culture, and the dragons and griffons seem to like theirs, as well. It also makes them more compatible with ours.”

“They shouldn’t have to make all the changes!” Spike growled in frustration, “We should be making an effort, too! Instead we’re shaping the entire world to our standards, with no regard for theirs!”

“You’re very florid today, Spike,” Twilight noted.

“I’m impassioned!” the dragon snapped back, then deflated, “Do any of you understand? Even if they did willingly convert to pony culture, there are no laws or teachings protecting them. Individuals like me will only ever be seen as pretenders.”

“That’s not true, Spike,” Twilight said, sympathy evident in her voice, “You’re family to us.”

“Is that so?” Spike stood taller, looking around at them, “Alright, so if I wanted to, you’d release me from my oath of service to you? You’d let me strike out on my own for work or study?”

Everyone went wide-eyed and Twilight felt her heart clench. It was exactly what she had feared, but she steeled herself. She needed to show Spike he wasn’t a prisoner, but an equal. Well, maybe not exactly equal to a Princess, but still. She couldn’t bring herself to speak, but she nodded. Spike seemed to unwind a little, his choler dying down.

“Alright,” he nodded, “But I have another question. If I’m an equal citizen, if I’m considered family to you… why am I ‘Spike the Dragon’ instead of ‘Spike Sparkle’?”

Twilight nearly fell backward at the question, for which she had no answer. Her mind was already unbalanced by everything that had happened so far, and that question was simply one too many. Spike, taking her silence as confirmation of his status, scowled and marched out, leaving his stunned friends behind.

“S-Spike…” Twilight almost fell to her knees, but Starlight caught her and kept her standing. It took a moment for the Princess to recover, and she stood tall and imperious, hiding her emotions, “I’ll have to deal with that later. Princess Luna, what was your next question?”

“What?” Luna snapped out of her own shock, having long been silent as the spat unfolded, “Twilight, are you sure you want to continue?”

“We gathered to address these issues,” Twilight said, “so let us address them.”

“Very well…” Luna exchanged worried looks with Twilight’s friends over the younger Princess’ head, “Another major issue was that of Cutie Marks. It gives some ponies an unfair edge in-”

“I’ve determined that’s not the case,” Twilight interrupted, “Next!”

“Hey, wait a minute!” Starlight stepped up, “That was my concern and I have a right to discuss it!”

“Well, my friends and I all earned our Cutie Marks at the same time, and as you’ve seen, it was the pivotal moment in the fate of Equestria! Without our Cutie Marks, the world ended!”

“I’m not saying they don’t serve a purpose,” Starlight said, trying and failing to keep her own temper in check, “but they do give an unfair edge to certain ponies! Besides, my issues have grown a little since then. There’s also the matter on the unfairness of the caste system and the lack of democratic institutions.”

“Democratic what-now?” Applejack asked at the same time Rainbow Dash asked “Caste system?”, the vast majority of the friends in attendance falling out of the loop.

“I agree there should be some level of democratization,” Luna said before Twilight could retort, earning surprised stares from the Princess of Friendship and her former student, “Our subjects should have more say in government. What do the rest of you think?”

“Ponies having a say in how the government’s run?” Applejack rubbed her chin, “I thought we already had that.”

“Oh no,” Fluttershy smiled, “most ponies don’t. The only reason we have a voice in how things are run is because Ponyville is so small, and Mayor Mare really likes her citizens’ input. Oh, and we’re friends with the Princesses. Personally, I think it’s a lovely idea.”

“I don’t,” Rarity shuddered, “Why should any old pony on the street have a say in politics? They don’t understand the intricacies of how Equestria is run, the nobility, or global issues! Letting the rabble have a say will lead to disaster, darling!”

“Rabble, huh?” Applejack glared at Rarity, “What do you mean by that, exactly?”

“Oh, well not you,” the Mage giggled, chidingly, “I mean… well, ponies without a vested interest in politics, I suppose. Ponies without land, for instance.”

“Wait, so I shouldn’t have a voice in government because I don’t own land?” Pinkie Pie demanded, “So my opinion doesn’t matter, huh?”

“Relax, Pinkie, that’s not what she meant,” Rainbow chuckled, “Obviously you’d have a voice in government. You do so much for every pony around town, after all.”

“Well, it shouldn’t matter how much ponies contribute or whether or not they own property,” Starlight said, “Laws and politics in Equestria affect every pony in the country! Every pony should have a say.”

“Oh boy,” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, “the ‘every pony has to be equal’ thing again.”

“Being equal isn’t a bad thing,” Fluttershy argued.

“She stole every pony’s Cutie Marks and abilities, remember?!” Rainbow got in Fluttershy’s face, “That’s what forcing equality on ponies will get you!”

“No, that’s what stealing everyone’s Cutie Marks and abilities will get you,” Fluttershy met Rainbow Dash’s aggression with her own, quieter resolve, the two of them face-to-face, “You can grant equality without taking ponies’ rights away, Rainbow.”

“Hear! Hear!” Discord chanted, earning a withering glare from Rainbow Dash, which he returned with a smirk.

“We can’t introduce democratic institutions or equality laws, anyway,” Twilight huffed, “It has to be left to the respective governments to decide. It would be unfair to force such measures on all of Equestria when they might work best in some regions and not others.”

“Oh, so which would work best here, Princess?” Starlight seethed, “Equality or tyranny?”

“From what you’ve shown me,” the Princess responded, icily, “those two go hand-in-hand.”

Starlight felt herself ready to explode and instead stomped out of the room much as Spike had, muttering the blackest of curses while her magic burst around her in a tempest of rage-fueled, yet ultimately harmless clouds. This time only Luna seemed to notice, as Twilight pointedly ignored the problem and her friends broke into arguments over the previous two issues. The two Princesses eyed each other, and for a moment Luna could see the pain in Twilight’s eyes, but she buried it under pragmatism and Princess-like discipline.

“Was there anything further to discuss, Princess Luna?” she asked, voice all cold steel.

“No,” Luna lied, turning her attention to the spirit of chaos, “Discord, if you would kindly return me to Canterlot? I believe I have what I came for.”

“Hm?” Discord hummed, watching the arguments with some amusement, “Already? It’s not even ten, yet!”

“Now, Discord,” Luna commanded.

“Oh, alright!” Discord sighed, “Fluttershy, I’m afraid I must depart for her Royal Crankiness.”

Fluttershy ignored him, too engrossed in her argument with Rainbow Dash and Rarity. Discord knitted his brow in confusion; she never ignored him for something as petty as an argument. Suddenly, the severity of the dispute was obvious and he contemplated binding their mouths in muzzles until their heads cooled down, but Luna was glaring at him insistently.

Discord summoned a portal with a snap of his talons and let Luna walk through it first. He spared a glance back at Fluttershy, still distracted by the argument, then at Twilight’s stony façade. He was an expert in disharmony, but even a year of living Celestia’s proscribed lifestyle and getting closer to Fluttershy had changed his outlook immensely. Suddenly, disharmony such as this seemed…

…unpalatable.
> 4
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


4


The World Friendship Summit had drawn emissaries from more lands than Celestia thought it would. The vast majority were representatives from the various pony city-states, though those within Equestria chose to be represented solely through Celestia, much to her chagrin. Germane, Saddle Arabia, Trottingham, Marexico, and a few dozen others from around the globe were there. Non-pony lands had also sent emissaries, among them Prince Rutherford of Yakyakistan, Dragon Lord Ember of the Dragon Lands, King Thorax of the changelings, and emissaries from the griffons and the camels. The camels, especially, were a surprise. It warmed her heart, initially to see them all gathered within the large auditorium within in Saddle Arabia’s capital.

Then she saw the discomfort of the non-ponies gathered, their forced smiles, and the sheer number of pony representatives when compared to the non-ponies. The donkey and zebra representatives looked somewhat resigned, lost in a crowd of similar-looking ponies who bickered between themselves, while the dragon, griffon, and changeling representatives tried and failed to look at ease. The camel representative looked particularly disgruntled.

Things only went downhill from there…

“It seems to me that the border between Saddle Arabia and Cameloo moves further east with every season!” the camel representative shouted at his Saddle Arabian counterpart, “Yet every time this issue is brought up, they insist they are not attempting conquest!”

“Because we are not!” the Saddle Arabian sneered beneath his shawl, “We simply take lands that are open to us, that welcome us!”

“And you force the camels there in to live as second-class citizens!” his Cameloo opponent roared.

Celestia felt herself painfully reminded of her failure as the leader of all ponies to address these issues a millennium ago.

“If we treat them as second-class, then we must still treat them better than you!” the desert-dwelling pony laughed, “They do not flee from us nor threaten secession to return to your dying state!”

“Arrogant pony!” the camel snapped, earning disapproving glares from the overwhelmingly-pony gathering, “First you absorb the donkey and zebra populations, and now you’re taking the territory from the buffalo tribe, as well as my own citizens, and likely a dozen others! What’s worse, you’ve allied yourself with these… these thugs to strong-arm us! No one can dare stand against you, now!”

“Thugs?!” Ember roared, fire leaking from her lips in rage. The griffon representative was similarly incensed, but Thorax kept calm.

“We’ve changed our ways to be kinder and more open to diplomacy,” the changeling ruler explained, “We prefer to avoid all hostilities if possible, and resolve these issues in as humane a fashion as possible.”

“Big words from a race that, for the last several centuries, has been trying to conquer and feed on everyone’s love…” the donkey representative muttered.

“Hold your tongue!” the Marexican representative snapped.

“I was not aware we had to obey your commands,” the zebra representative stated, flatly, earning glares from neighboring ponies, “I believe we have a right to question their demands.”

“The yaks wish to raise issue,” Prince Rutherford declared, drawing disdainful eyes in his direction. Celestia seized upon the chance to set an example for her subjects.

“Of course, Prince Rutherford,” the Princess of the Day said in all her regality, letting her compassionate voice carry over those gathered, “We are gathered here to address issues and redress wrongs, naturally.”

“Yes, wrongs…” Rutherford murmured before revealing two stallions behind him and shoving them forward. Celestia vaguely recognized the twins. “Princess Twilight demanded we take care of these two until heads cool. Night in Yakyakistani snow certainly cool enough. I demand they leave – very annoying.”

“How in the world did those two get all the way to Yakyakistan in the first place?” the Germane representative asked, recognizing the pair, “Those miscreants usually hide out in Equestria!”

“They fall from hole in sky,” Rutherford explained, “Princess Twilight put notes in vests, telling us to look after them. We oblige because of friendship with great Honorary Yak Pinkie Pie, but we feel wronged at being ordered by foreign power.”

“That… doesn’t sound like Twilight…” Celestia mused aloud.

“You call yaks liars?!” Rutherford stood to his full, impressive height, shaggy hair bobbing.

“No!” Celestia said, trying to placate him. A murmur of dissension was growing in the assembly. “I’m merely surprised, is all. Princess Twilight has always been so tactful. Princess Ember, you’ve spoken with Princess Twilight before – surely you agree she is incapable of making such demands.”

“It’s Dragon Lord Ember,” the dragon corrected, sternly, “and didn’t she conquer a village and force everyone into her harmony cult?”

The room exploded in gasps of horror and arguments both agreeing and disagreeing with the sentiment. Oddly, the ponies were most vocal in their gossip; other races merely exchanged questioning looks since they had met Twilight and were confused by Ember’s description. Celestia tried to keep her panic in check as things continued to fall apart around her.

“I believe you are referring to Starlight, dear,” the Princess of the Day chuckled, making sure her voice carried over and quieted the arguing, “Starlight Glimmer.”

“Oh yeah,” Ember murmured, “Twilight’s student. They’re very similar.”

“Am I to understand Princess Twilight took a despot as a student?!” the camel representative asked. The assembly exploded into more arguing at this revelation, except amongst the parties already aware of it. “Look at how calm the dragon, yak, changeling, and griffon representatives are! This proves collusion between Equestria and the most aggressive races!”

“Even I, a proud loyalist to Her Majesty, am horrified by this apparent transgression!” the Trottingham representative declared, outraged.

“You jump to unnecessary conclusions!” the Germane representative snapped, “Celestia’s teachings preach forgiveness and redemption! Have faith in our immortal ruler!”

“She does not rule Marexico,” the Marexican representative asserted, “We are a republic! We are allies with Princess Celestia – not her vassals!”

“All ponies are her vassals,” the Saddle Arabian representative asserted, “She is divine and we owe her our submission.”

Celestia gaped as the ponies broke into arguments amongst themselves about her divinity. The donkey representative rolled his eyes as they prattled on, while the zebra representative shook her head in disgust. Dragon Lord Ember, Prince Rutherford, and the griffon representative looked disgruntled, having been shut out by the personal squabbles of the pony city-states. King Thorax only watched with growing sorrow.

“I think,” he spoke up, drawing attention solely by the fact he had hardly spoken, “what we all need right now is to sit down, take a deep breath, and express our concerns in a feelings forum. We could make crafts, too!”

“Is he supposed to be a king?” the Trottingham representative laughed, “He behaves like a child!”

“It’ll take more than some glue and pipe cleaners to fix this mess, Pretenderkönig!” the Germane representative sneered.

“That’s it!” Ember snapped, slamming her palms on the table and drooling flame, “Ignoring us is one thing, but insulting us is unforgivable! Apologize to Thorax now, or I’ll torch your little Summit!”

“Ember, don’t-” Celestia tried but was talked over by her fellow ponies.

“And so the façade of civility crumbles,” the Saddle Arabian scoffed, “The dragons are just as violent as ever!”

“What made them think they could behave like ponies in the first place?” the Trottingham representative chuckled, “They have about as much civilization in the Dragon Lands as they do in Cameloo or Yakyakistan!”

“Ponies’ behavior disgraceful!” Prince Rutherford roared, his massive musculature pulsing with restrained rage, “You speak of Celestia’s teachings, but you not follow them as Honorary Yak Pinkie Pie does! If this how rest of ponies behaves, we rescind Yakyakistan’s pledge of friendship!”

“Good riddance!” one of the other representatives shouted.

“Come on, Thorax!” Ember snapped as she moved to join a furious Prince Rutherford in his departure, “We don’t need to stand for this! You two, too! These pony jerks don’t deserve our friendship. We’ll just form our own Summit!”

“I’ll sign on for that!” the griffon representative agreed, joining them. The camel representative was surprised to be included, since he had started the proceedings by accusing them of collusion. After a moment, though, he nodded and shot one last, venomous glare at the Saddle Arabian before joining them.

“B-but, we owe it to Spike to…” Thorax began.

“We owe it to Spike to save him from these... hateful creeps!” Ember asserted, pointing accusatorily at the ponies.

“Princess Celestia, say something!” Thorax pleaded. The departing representatives stopped, turning to look upon the Princess of the Day. Even now, they respected her opinion.

Celestia stood tall, flawless white wings outspread. The sunlight was behind her, haloing her in majesty, and her magic flowed through her, making her glow with such golden warmth that even Ember was momentarily awed. Complete silence welcomed her to speak, and she looked imperiously down upon her fellow ponies.

“I am very disappointed in you, you representatives who claim to follow my ideals and teachings,” she said, evenly, “Have I not taught you to be inclusive and welcoming? Have I not taught you to work together in harmony, not to wallow in division? Yet, here you are, insulting our friends from other lands. It shames us as a race.”

“But, Your Majesty!” the Germane representative spoke up, “Is it not implied your way is the only way? Are you saying we should tolerate aggression and lack of civility in other cultures? Welcome them as brothers even while they refuse to adopt our ways?”

“We have adopted your ways!” Ember snapped, “Why would I even come to this stupid Summit if I wasn’t trying to set an example to my kin to embrace your teachings?!”

“Pretenders!” the Marexican representative scoffed, “Just because you take a few of our customs and some lessons from Celestia, it doesn’t make you our equals.”

“I see we’re dealing with a bit of a superiority complex, here…” Celestia said through gritted teeth, “I never said ponies were superior, or that no one else can adopt our teachings…”

“Why should we?” the dragon demanded, surprising Celestia, “Your kind refuse to accept us as equals, and they’ll only ever see us as pretenders! Why should I try and force my subjects to give up our ancient customs and practices, try and change our laws? I’d be giving up our identity just to be rejected by yours!”

“You will be accepted, Princess Ember, I just need to-” Celestia tried to say.

“DRAGON LORD!” Ember shouted, “I’m not a princess anymore! In my culture, a princess is not the highest authority! Quit trying to push your titles on me!”

“I-I wasn’t trying to!” Celestia looked shocked.

“Now they insult our divine Princesses!” the Saddle Arabian roared, incensed.

“Glorious Princess Celestia has extended her hand in friendship, only to have it slapped away by these ungrateful curs!” the Germane spat, “This affront is almost too much!”

“Yaks have seen enough,” Prince Rutherford muttered, leaving the Summit.

“If you Saddle Arabians come any further into Cameloo, there will be war!” the camel declared, “We will not be bullied any further!”

“I will ensure the griffons support the camels in any war with you ponies!” the griffon added, earning a thankful nod from the camel. With that, both left the Summit.

“Come on, Thorax!” Ember ordered, “We’re really leaving this time.”

“I… I think I’ll stay,” the Changeling King said, giving Ember pause.

“You… you’d stay with these ponies rather than join us?” Ember asked, “They hate changelings!”

“Not all of them,” Thorax smiled, “Besides, I don’t want to pick a side. I like Celestia’s teachings; I think the changelings are better for them, but I’m also fine with how you guys do things. To each their own, right?”

“Alright…” Ember stood there for a moment, feeling awkward. She tended to feel awkward around the Changeling King; he was so… different. He seemed weak, and childish, and overly-kind, and she should have hated that, but instead she found it sort of endearing. Ugh. Pony sentimentality was weakening her. “Well, if neutrality is what you’re going for, you should come to our meeting, too.”

“What if the Summits schedule something at the same time?” Thorax frowned, “I can’t pick a favorite… Oh, I know! Would you be offended if I made Pharynx my emissary to your meetings?”

“Pharynx?” Ember blinked, “Why?”

“Well, I can’t be in two places at once, and he is my brother. Technically, that makes him royalty and the best choice for these kinds of things,” Thorax explained, “Between you and me, I’d rather go to the meetings you’re at…”

Ember felt her cheeks flush, so she scowled in an effort to make it seem like anger.

“B-but that would mean Pharynx would have to meet with the ponies in my stead,” Thorax added, hurriedly, “He, um… he might not get along with the ponies, but I think he’d like you and the others. It’s easier for him to relate to your warrior cultures.”

“Well… that does make sense,” Ember muttered.

“Unless you wanted me, specifically, to attend, of course,” Thorax offered, “It’d be poor form if I ignored the personal request of another leader.”

“Personal request?” Ember arched an eyebrow, “You might be one of my few friends, Thorax, but you’re right; we shouldn’t mix that into politics. Pharynx would be the better representative at our Summit.”

“Oh, okay,” Thorax nodded, smiling. In truth, he had hoped she’d order him to join her at least one more time. Ember would never do that, though; she was a strong leader, a leader who put the needs of her kin above personal interests. There was a bittersweet emotion blooming in his chest that Thorax didn’t feel like exploring yet. Perhaps when the fate of the world wasn’t in the balance.

Ember nodded again and followed the others out. Thorax returned to his seat, earning glares of suspicion from most of the ponies. Celestia was about to thank Thorax for his commitment to the Summit, but before she could open her mouth the donkey and zebra representatives stood and began leaving.

“Where are you going?!” one of the pony representatives demanded.

“This has been an interesting Summit,” the zebra said, slowly, “but perhaps today we shall not commit.”

“What the rhyme-spinner is saying,” the donkey stated, “is that we’re going to see what their Summit is all about. We don’t want to be the only non-ponies at these things. World Friendship Summit, indeed!”

“B-but…” Celestia began.

“Please excuse us, Princess,” the donkey managed to keep too much venom from his voice out of genuine respect, “but our races were promised their sovereignty and I think it’s time we started acting on it. Good day.”

With that, two more representatives left.

“What about you, Boy-King?” the Germane asked of Thorax, “Will you not flee with the others?”

“The changelings will send representatives to both Summits,” Thorax smiled, warmly, “I believe it is in the best interests of my kin to build bridges between all the races, rather than pick any one group over another.”

Celestia felt her heart soothe a little at Thorax’s words. Here was someone talking sense! Surely the sincerity of his actions would inspire understanding from-

“He’s probably a spy!” the Trottingham representative snapped, “Changelings! You can’t trust them!”

Celestia threw her head back, her mane blazing with white-hot flame, screaming with the intensity of her Royal Voice. The violence of her voice was so powerful, her fire so bright, that even the non-ponies who had left and were already some ways away, stopped and looked back in awe at the building whose windows were portals of white light. Then Celestia suppressed her anger, glared at her fellow ponies in the darkest of disapproval, and left. Panic-stricken, the redheaded twins who had unintentionally set negotiations into a spiral chased after their ride back to Equestria.

The ponies and Thorax were so stunned by this that they sat in silence for several minutes, several of them temporarily blinded from having looked at her intensity. Finally, someone spoke.

“See?” the Germane said, “Even our Goddess is disgusted by the insult given to us by those non-pony heathens!”


…


“I thought you needed to return to your family reunion, Discord?” Luna sighed as she lost another round on the arcade machine in her personal retreat.

“Oh, don’t be a sore loser,” the God of Chaos chuckled, but it was obviously forced, “Shouldn’t you be attending to your nightly duties right now?”

“I’ve already replaced the lavender,” Luna said.

“You know I’m not talking about the flowers.”

“Hunting monstrous beasts, then?” the Princess asked, “I do have a dungeon crawl game on this machine…”

“Luna, quit dodging the issue!” Discord snapped, “Yeesh! And ponies say I’m shifty! Why have you been avoiding your dream duties? Why haven’t you even touched that scroll you wrote while with Twilight?”

“Why are you still here?” Luna retorted, “It’s been two days, Discord. I admit, it was fun having someone around to keep me company at first – especially someone who can hold their own against me in Slaughter Pony Deathmatch: Armageddon – but two days seems imposing, don’t you think?”

“I don’t know,” Discord smirked, “maybe I just like your company.”

“Your flirting makes my skin crawl,” Luna grimaced as she turned and walked away from the arcade machine, “and it gets less funny with every snide attempt.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll stop!” Discord teleported in front of Luna, barring her path, “But you need to address these issues! Fluttershy is completely ignoring me!”

Luna stared at him flatly.

“She never ignores her friends, not for two whole days! And certainly not to hold a petty argument with one of her closest compadres!” Discord explained, “Rainbow Dash is her oldest – and, if I’m being completely honest with myself – dearest friend; they’re practically sisters. I’ve never seen them so… bitter.”

“You surprise me,” it was the Princess of the Night’s turn to smirk, “You seem almost afraid of this… disharmony.”

“Ha-ha, Luna,” the spirit of anarchy rolled his glowing eyes, “Yes, I am afraid. You do realize all of my rehabilitation, all of my progress in Equestria, my new friends, everything I have become, is all the direct result of Fluttershy, right? I don’t like how this division is affecting her, or my other friends for that matter. I’m worried it’ll change things for the worst!”

Luna frowned at his concern and ultimately sighed, caving into his desperation. She nodded slowly, trying not to cringe at his eager, gnarled-fanged grin.

“Alright,” she agreed, “I will return to my dream duties. I want something in exchange, first.”

“Anything, just name it!” Discord nodded quickly.

“Please return my room to its original state and leave,” Luna laughed, looking down at her floor from their place on the wall near the ceiling. A bookshelf was floating somewhere near the window. “No gravity was fun, at first, and this has been a delightful distraction from an otherwise mundane job, but perhaps it is time things return to normal.”

“For once,” Discord snapped his fingers and they were standing in the middle of the room, gravity restored and all furniture where it was supposed to be, “I completely agree.”

“Thank you,” Luna said. She prepared to enter the dream realm as Discord readied a snap of his fingers to return to wherever he wished. The Princess of the Night stopped him by calling his name and he looked at her. “Please, don’t be a stranger. I know Tia would love for you to visit sometimes; it gets terribly droll in Canterlot, and you tend to liven things up.”

“I suppose a thousand years isn’t too late for us to start having tea parties,” Discord smirked, “Arrivederci, Lulu! Give Tia my warmest regards!”

With that, Discord left. Luna stared at the place he had been a moment earlier for a few seconds more before returning to her spell. It was almost insulting that Discord had been the voice of responsibility between them and urged her to perform her required duties. With a deep breath she threw herself into the dream world…

…and she recoiled at the horror.
> 5
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


5


Celestia leaned her chin on her hoof, glaring over the side of her chariot as it flew back to Equestria. She was tired and angry. She had left her own Summit! Her crowning achievement in diplomacy, and the sheer idiocy of her fellow ponies had driven her away in a rage. Things were falling apart worse than she thought all because of a simple oversight she had never corrected. That fact, that it was her fault, made her even angrier. The anger, of course, was just a crutch she was childishly clinging to; in truth, she wanted to weep.

“Um… Princess Celestia?” a voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

She sighed, heavily, and turned to face the two sales-ponies with icy contempt. She didn’t know them, really, but had heard reports of their swindling from various sources, namely Applejack. Now they seemed oddly subdued, compared to their reported behavior. Then again, they were dealing with an ancient Princess who had, only hours ago, demonstrated her fury with violent power. Even opportunists would tread lightly.

“What is it?” she asked.

“W-well, Flim and I wanted to thank you for getting us out of there when you did,” the mustachioed brother – Flam, Celestia remembered – said.

“And, of course, for the ride back to Canterlot!” Flim added.

“Of course, of course!” Flam agreed, “Can’t forget that, now can we?”

“I couldn’t very well leave an Equestrian citizen behind, now could I?” the Princess of the Day muttered before furrowing her brow, “Wait, you two are Equestrian citizens, yes?”

“My brother and I consider ourselves world citizens, Your Majesty,” Flim explained, “We are, of course, loyal to Equestria above all others.”

“The best business, in Equestria,” Flam grinned, “Land of opportunity, it is!”

“How have ponies fallen so far?” Celestia murmured, “I remember the days of Starswirl the Bearded, learning of how ponies bested the vicious Windigos with harmony and solidarity. Have a thousand years of my rule weathered that bond? My failure is great…”

“Don’t say that, Princess!” Flim gaped, feeling – for the briefest of moments – a genuine concern for their leader, “You just need a new angle, is all.”

“Flim and I know all about working new angles,” the hairier of the two nodded.

“A new angle, huh?” Celestia snorted, cynically, “I have tried to lead by example, but I cannot guide my fellow ponies while bogged down in my ceremonial duties.”

“Issue edicts to them,” Flim suggested, “Make them obey your teachings!”

“Good idea, brother!”

“That’s a horrible idea!” Celestia snapped, “I am not their ruler! I might control the sun, and be the oldest of the Princesses, but I am not the ruler of all ponies. I will not impose my will on sovereign lands.”

“Pardon my saying so, Princess,” Flam said, “but it’s not imposing if they already consider you their ruler.”

“Indeed!” Flim agreed, “You heard those stuffy bureaucrats, prattling on in there!”

“Besides the Marexican, all of them saw you as their leader!”

“Some of them worshipped you!”

“I am not divine!” Celestia seethed, barely keeping from erupting in flame again. Flim and Flam flinched back, and Celestia winced at her lack of control. This wasn’t like her; she never lost her temper like this. She brought her humor back into control with some effort. “My apologies. This whole ordeal has taxed my patience, thought that is no excuse.”

“It’s alright, Your Majesty,” Flam chuckled, “We’ve been known to wear on others’ patience.”

“Yes, Applejack has mentioned it more than once,” Celestia mused with a smile. The smile faded when she saw the brothers fluster and shuffle dumbly. She tried to change the subject. “Why in the world did Twilight send you to Yakyakistan, anyway? I know you two are not the most reputable subjects, but banishment isn’t like Twilight. Prince Rutherford mentioned something about ‘cool heads’?”

“Ah… that…” Flim said, significantly slower than his usual fast-paced speech.

“Well…” Flam cleared his throat, “my brother and I were under the influence of a particular potion.”

“And we needed to be separated from some pony as a result,” Flim added.

“A love potion?” Celestia’s eyes widened. It was her best guess based on that information; she had read in one of Twilight’s friendship reports about the Cutie Mark Crusaders using a love potion on Cheerilee and Big Macintosh, that failing to separate them would have resulted in the effects being permanent. “How did the two greatest swindlers in Equestria, who so frequently sell fake elixirs, manage to fall for something like that?”

“You are too kind, Your Majesty!” Flam bowed as deep as he could from his seat, “Did you hear that, brother? The greatest swindlers in Equestria!”

“Indeed I did, brother! Truly an honor coming from the leader of that fair land, herself!”

“Truth is, Princess,” Flam returned his attention to their host, “Flim and I have a bit of affection for the pesky, peach pony who keeps foiling our fortuitous plans.”

“Indubitably!” Flim agreed, “It became too much to bear, but neither of us had the spine to ask her out.”

“Simply shameful.”

“Very shameful!”

“Dreadfully shameful!”

“And?” Celestia interrupted their attempt for pity.

“Er, well, we contracted the youthful Apple Bloom to concoct for us a temporary draft of amore, some liquid courage to help us ask her out!” Flam explained.

“Needless to say,” Flim chuckled before deflating, “…our affections were unrequited.”

“Princess Twilight was forced to send us away in the meantime so the potion could wear off.”

“You imbibed in a mind-altering substance and harassed a young mare in an attempt to force her into an amorous relationship with both of you?” Celestia gaped, “I… I’m pretty sure I’ve written laws against most of those things…”

“It wasn’t our intent to harass her!” Flim said, hurriedly.

“We had no desire to force her!” Flam said on top of his brother.

“Relax,” Celestia giggled, “I am merely toying with you. I apologize for the dark humor, but my mood has been a little dreary of late.”

“No worries, my dear – eh, Princess!” Flam said, correcting his usual line when addressing mares, “Flim and I have heard far worse.”

Celestia couldn’t help but feel a small smile tug at her lips. How long had it been since someone casually addressed her with something as simple as a ‘dear’? Aside from Luna, she hadn’t heard anything like it since her mentor, Starswirl the Bearded disappeared. Or Discord and his attempts to annoy her, but those made her smirk out of amusement more than anything.

“Please,” she smiled, warmly, “my friends call me Tia.”

“F-friends?” Flim exchanged looks with his brother.

“Don’t look so shocked, you two,” Celestia chuckled, “I was mentor to the Princess of Friendship. I believe I’ve distanced myself too far from my subjects; perhaps it is time I begin putting time aside from my duties so I can mingle.”

“That’s… very inspired,” Flam said. After a moment, he added, “Tia.”

“I’ve always heard you’re overworked with royal duties,” Flim said, “Won’t you be missed?”

“My sister Luna has been wanting to give more authority to our subjects,” Celestia noted, “It would probably go a long way if I appointed some of the more progressive nobility to take over for my duties, and in turn they could appoint commoners into higher positions to alleviate some of their duties.”

“Ah, the Ponzi Scheme!” Flam grinned.

“The Pyramid Scam!” Flim agreed.

“So-called ‘trickle-down economics’!” Flam chortled and his brother joined in, “A classic!”

“It’s not a scheme,” Celestia scowled, “It’s a chance to give more responsibility in government to non-nobles. I’ve… recently discovered that how we do things in Equestria isn’t exactly fair.”

“Of course it’s not,” Flam agreed, “but that’s what makes it so grand!”

“I don’t follow,” the Princess furrowed her brow.

“Competition for wealth inspires ponies to strive for their very best!” Flim explained, “Why, just look at Flam and I!”

Celestia gave both of them a flat stare before sighing.

“Even if you were exemplars of the virtues of competition,” she said, “I cannot allow such inequality to ferment. For even a single pony to be wealthy, a hundred others must be destitute; that’s the simple truth of it. Besides, there is a disproportionate amount of power held in too few hooves.”

“You’re starting to sound like those republican types,” Flam noted, “Fancying democracy this evening?”

“Flirting with it,” Celestia giggled, “In truth, I don’t think it’s necessary, especially after witnessing how unreliable so many ponies are. You heard those delegates; half of them have completely abandoned or twisted my teachings! Could you imagine if I simply left all law and government in their hooves? There’d be endless debates, all ending with erasing some part of my teachings to serve their ends! No, what I’m suggesting is simply making government more efficient.”

“More efficient, eh?” Flim tapped his chin, “I think I can imagine this, yes. What do you think, Flam?”

“More efficiency in government,” Flam mulled it over, “Sounds profitable to me!”

“Well, that’s good enough for us!” Flim grinned, turning back to Celestia, “Flam and I will help in any way we can, Your Maje- er, Tia.”

“That’s good to know,” Celestia smiled, “I wish to school the two of you in business ethics. Then… then I would like you to do important work for the good of Equestria.”

“What in the name of horn swaddling are ethics?” Flim blinked.

“I guess we’ll find out, brother,” Flam shrugged, “Alrighty, Tia; we’ve already said we’d help. What kind of work?”

Celestia looked back out over the passing landscape beneath her chariot.

“For too long the selfishness of ponies has been allowed to run rampant,” she explained, “Corporations have formed, businesses that have swelled to monstrous proportions and consumed all around them. They are incredibly beneficial in many regards, and very efficient and convenient, but their leaders are corrupt and driven by a greed for wealth that puts even dragons to shame. If they continue to run their course, unchecked, they will burn themselves out and take every pony else with them.

“For their own safety, as well as that of Equestria’s subjects – pony and non-pony alike – they need to be restructured. After I am done educating the two of you in the finer points of how to run a business with ethics, in line with my teachings, I want you to set about bringing the major business leaders of Equestria together and teaching them the same. They will submit to new edicts that limit wealth, regulate capital, and allow for a balance between competition, wealth, and equality.”

“Sounds brilliant, Tia!” Flam whooped, then frowned, “If only I had understood a word of it.”

“You will,” Celestia smiled down at the ocean they were passing over, “in time. Soon, all of Equestria – all ponies of every land – will remember my teachings and their oaths.”

Flim and Flam exchanged a worried look while Celestia was focused on the ocean, but neither said anything. Celestia was their ruler, and they had sworn to that against their better judgement. She wasn’t like the naïve Twilight; one could not outwit a millennium-old deity who had planned things out centuries in advance.

For better or worse, they had to trust her.


…


Twilight watched from the balcony of her castle, watching the battle unfold before her. Somewhere in her mind she was astonished that she could look out over her once-pristine town and not breakdown at what she was seeing.

The skies were like some ancient tapestry of suffering: storm clouds bursting with arcs of lightning, glowing red from fire as pegasi, griffons and dragons battled for supremacy. Their bodies, burnt and broken, tumbled from the heavens to rain down upon their fellow combatants. A fierce melee was unfolding in the streets of Ponyville, earth ponies wielding improvised weapons and fighting tooth and hoof against stampeding yaks. In some areas, ponies would suddenly turn on each other and reveal themselves as changelings.

Rainbow Dash’s wing of Wonderbolts were scattered and being picked off one-by-one, while Rarity lead the unicorns and the remaining ponies in a defense of the castle, the broken and retreating militia fleeing to the safety of its walls. The others had left months ago. Twilight felt the vibrations from her balcony – the storm of thousands of hooves galloping, the shaking of the air as screams and war cries were thrown about. A new vibration caught her attention. It caught everyone’s attention, pony and non-pony alike.

The fighting stopped, even in the skies. A thumping drew closer, like booming thunder. The ruined husks of buildings were shouldered aside by a massive bulk. Thick musculature encasing bones harder than steel. Twilight would never have recognized her former assistant of not for his hide of thick, diamond-hard purple scales and crown of green spikes. Fangs capable of carving through the strongest of gems bristled in a maw that could swallow an armored stallion whole; a maw that leaked green fire and black smoke.

“TWILIGHT!” Spike declared his challenge, rising to his haunches, his head coming level with her balcony.

“Oh, Spike…” the Princess of Friendship allowed her sorrow to break through the façade of self-control she had worn through the entire battle, “Why?”

“BECAUSE YOU FAILED,” the dragon whispered, yet it carried like distant thunder. Those emerald eyes, larger in diameter than Big Mac was tall, looked at her with a combination of hatred, grief, and pity that made the Princess’ heart break like brittle glass. “NOW… FACE YOUR FAILURE!”

With a scream born from the depths of her agony, Twilight flew into the air, trying to rise above Spike as he drew himself out to his full height. She circled around the tallest tower of her castle, arcing in for the attack and firing a powerful magical bolt. Purple magic danced across Spike’s scales, eliciting a roar not unlike a volcano erupting. He replied with a wave of eldritch flame. Twilight hardly had time to envelop herself in a shield. Even with all her power she strained under the seemingly endless inferno spawning from Spike’s gullet. How long could he sustain such an attack? How long could she hold out? Already the bubble was cracking.

“Twilight!” a voice rang out, nearly shattering her attention and costing her life.

Spike paused and the Princess of Friendship took the opportunity to ascend above the clouds where the wingless dragon could not follow. She gasped for breath as soon as she was through the tumultuous cloud cover. Looking around for who had cried out, she saw Princess Luna descend from the moon. Hadn’t it been daylight? It had been impossible to tell through the clouds and fires.

“Princess Luna,” Twilight panted, “Have you brought reinforcements? I feared Canterlot had been destroyed!”

“Twilight, this is only a nightmare,” Luna said, soothingly.

Her horn glowed in rich blue. Twilight watched as the clouds whitened, the lights within dying down. The clouds began to break and through the breeches, Twilight saw Ponyville restored. There was no invasion, no war. The young alicorn heaved a sigh of relief and collapsed upon the cloud she stood on, though she was no longer physically fatigued.

“Oh, thank Celestia!” she heaved, then chuckled, “Or, I guess I should be saying, thank you, Luna.”

“It is my duty,” Luna said, grimacing, “One I have been neglecting, of late. I apologize for that. How long has this particular nightmare been afflicting you?”

“I’ve been having a series of these dreams ever since you visited,” Twilight confessed, “The first two weren’t this bad, though. The first one was about Spike leaving to return to the Dragon Lands after another fight…”

“And the second?” Luna pressed.

“I… I was following his progress through reports,” Twilight confessed, “Ember was still the Dragon Lord, but she and the others were following Spike, for some reason. I couldn’t understand it all, since the reports were sporadic, but he traveled to the Griffonstone and Yakyakistan, too. They… they called him the Thurdojun.”

“Do you know what that means?” Luna asked.

“I’m not familiar with dragon,” Twilight sighed, “At any rate, it was just a nightmare. I suppose you’ll tell me I just need to talk it out with Spike.”

“My job is to help my subjects interpret their dreams,” Luna smiled, then frowned, “Yours, however… they seem almost prophetic. They aren’t structured in the usual way. There is an overarching plot, and to my eye, I could detect nothing overly extraordinary or bizarre about your dream. In nearly every pony’s dreams, there is some element that is out of place, some overlooked detail that reveals the lie. In yours, there was none…”

“Are you saying this will happen?!” the younger Princess was horrified.

“Fear not, Twilight,” Luna said, calmly, “I am saying, this could be a warning of a potential future. It is not uncommon for alicorns to be gifted with prescience and scrying magic. All of us have the talent of divination in some form, but what is important to remember is that this nightmare is only one of infinite possible futures. As the Princess of Friendship, it is likely your magic is allowing you to see this result in an effort to help you avoid the ultimate friendship crisis.”

“Then I need to talk to Spike,” Twilight sighed, “I’ve been avoiding him too long. My friends are also falling apart over this silly democracy thing you mentioned. Oh, sorry; I forgot you supported it.”

“I still do,” Luna murmured, “but we can discuss politics another time. For now, you should attempt to mend the rift between you and your friends before it spirals out of control. Apologies go a long way.”

“I suppose I’ve been a little close-minded…” Twilight chuckled, nervously, “Alright; I’ll find Spike as soon as I wake up and talk this out with him, then Starlight, and then we’ll end this feud between our friends!”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Luna smiled warmly before beginning to fade, “My time grows short, Princess. I have many more dreams to visit before it is through, but yours was most pressing. I know you shall triumph!”

With that, the Princess of the Night vanished and Twilight felt herself slip into another, more pleasant dream.


…


Luna flew through the realm of dreams, making stops where things were most critical. Here a stallion’s dreams foreshadowed suicide if left unchecked, there a mare’s dreams put her on the knife edge of insanity. Starlight Glimmer’s dreams had been erratic, switching between a utopian vision of the future and a dystopia produced by her failures in delivering it. Each of Twilight’s other friends had their dreams warped by frustration or outright anger. A million others besides.

By the time she returned to the waking world it was almost sunrise. Sleepy, Luna strolled into the dining room at the same instant Celestia did. Luna stopped, her tired mind trying to process why Celestia was there, scowling and without pancakes.

“Did I do something wrong?” the younger of the two asked before realizing what was out of place, “I mean, is the Friendship Summit over already?”

“I don’t want to talk about it!” the Princess of the Day groaned as she walked past the sleepy Luna. Tailing her were two red-maned stallions in striped vests and straw hats that Luna vaguely recognized.

“That bad, hm?” Luna mused to herself, frowning. Her poor sister; that Summit had been her pride and joy pet project for the last few months, and she had been dreaming of it for years, toying with the idea for centuries.

Ultimately, however, the need for sleep overrode her concern and she returned to her room. Before going to be, however, she levitated a journal to her writing desk and opened it, preparing a quill and some ink. It was a habit she had to keep records of her nightly duties, as well as her thoughts and concerns, within a journal. It was a cross between a dream journal and a diary, and Luna frequently referred to earlier entries in an effort to track recurring dreams in her subjects.

She did so now, but to track recent events more than dreams. She frowned at the C.E. dating method she had used her entire life: the Celestial Era. Being the younger of the two, even the calendar had been named in honor of the reigning Princess. Celestia had claimed that it had never been her intent, especially since they were co-regents, but it had been one of the many barbs to drive Luna into possession by Nightmare Moon. Now, though, Celestia was pushing for a new calendar system to celebrate her return, but the best she could do was convince a large portion of her subjects to refer to C.E. as the “Common” Era. Of course, that was very recent. Her journal entries were always written with the date of when the night began, rather than the morning she was writing them.

Very tried, she decided to skim.

Wednesday the 11th, October, 1074 CE,

My sister received grave news from Princess Twilight Sparkle… I decided to gather more information, but this resulted in disaster…

Thursday the 12th, October, 1074 CE,

Against my better judgement, I’ve been allowing Discord to spend time with me. He’s quite charming when he isn’t dousing me in chocolate milk; I can see why Tia had a crush on him before our battle (whoever is reading this, don’t tell her I wrote that!)

Luna smiled at that entry, despite the fact she had avoided her duties that night. Now she stared at a blank page. Friday the 13th; the monthly night of bad luck… Why had did she have to take her responsibilities back up on that day? Sighing, she dipped the quill in the inkwell and set about writing.

Friday the 13th, October, 1074 CE,

I have just returned from a grueling amount of dream duty. I deserve it, naturally, since I have neglected my responsibilities for two days and a night in order to play games with Discord. He’s even better than me at Pony Slaughter, but whoever is reading this better not tell him I said so!

The nightmares I faced today were some of the worst I’ve seen in a long time, especially Twilight’s. Hers smacked of prophecy, and that concerns me. I would much rather Pinkie Pie’s nightmare about a pony-eating cake turned out prophetic than Twilight’s vision of a race war… She mentioned that Spike had been referred to as the Thurdojun, which seems to be some kind of title in dragon. I usually fell asleep during Starswirl’s lectures on the dragon language, and a thousand years truly takes its toll on unused knowledge. Even Twilight didn’t know its meaning! I will ask Dragon Lord Ember about this title; if she can’t answer it, then I will be forced to do research…

Luna proceeded to list elements from the other dreams she had entered, compared them with previous dreams of the same subjects to see if anything was recurring, and then went into a fitful sleep, slumped over her desk.

Her dreams were nearly as troubled as those of her subjects.
> 6
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


6


Spike went about his usual chores in the early morning. The library might have been replaced by a massive castle, but his job certainly hadn’t increased in difficulty. In truth, the crystalline surfaces of their new abode made cleaning far simpler. The difficulties of cleaning conventional materials had all been replaced by the simple task of dusting in most cases. Slime and grime found no purchase on the smooth perfection of the walls, and what little did accumulate could be rinse out with a hose or burned out with fire with no damage to the crystal. As far as Spike could tell, the walls only took damage from magical blasts and extreme physical stress, and were easily repaired.

He felt a slight twinge of pride at the prospect that he’d finish his work before lunch. If he avoided Twilight again, he wouldn’t even need to help with her personal tasks. Of course, he’d been avoiding her too much lately. Sighing, he finished brushing the little bit of dust from a mantle. He needed to try talking to her again; they’d never been angry at one another for this long, and they certainly never made a point to avoid each other.

Every time he thought of conceding his beliefs on the issues he had brought up, though, he felt his blood run hotter than the fire in his soul. He was never one for conflict, outside of his fantasies as a charming hero, but this issue was one of honor and heritage. He owed it to his kind, as well as to the species he was ambassador to on behalf of Equestria, to help ensure they had a place in Celestia’s vision of a world united.

But… but maybe it was time to let things die down a little. Keep the topic afloat, but hold back on the passion. “Be the bigger pony,” as the saying went.

With that motivation, Spike finished his work and set about looking for the closest thing he had to a mother. After roughly ten minutes of searching, the dragon began to recall the simpler times before the castle, where it was impossible to get lost in his home. The library… the dorm… So much cozier. Then he – quite literally – bumped into Starlight Glimmer’s flank.

“WHO THE-” the unicorn whirled around, then calmed down, “Oh, it’s you, Spike. Didn’t Twilight ever teach you not to bump into mare’s flanks?”

“S-sorry!” the dragon backed up, blushing profusely, “I-I was daydreaming and wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“Have I been there!” Starlight giggled, “Back in Our Town, I used to daydream a lot! Of course, those dreams were usually about stealing the Princesses’ Cutie Marks…”

“Dream big or not at all, I guess…” Spike murmured, slightly disturbed.

They stood there, awkwardly, before Starlight gave voice to a question burning in her mind. She sat on her haunches.

“I’m just curious, so don’t take this the wrong way, but… why have you been studying dragons more, lately?”

“Huh?” Spike returned to looking at Starlight, “Oh, uh… I don’t know. I just have this desire to know more about my roots, you know? I mean, I’ve always had this identity crisis going on, and I thought I had it solved months ago, but I’m not so sure.”

“You wonder who your parents are, don’t you?” the unicorn asked, her tone sad but not pitying.

“Yeah,” Spike nodded, then remembered something from when he helped Twilight defeat her, “If you don’t mind me asking… what happened to your parents?”

“Oh,” Starlight sat straighter, “I, uh… I never knew them. I guess you could say I’m an orphan, but since I don’t know what happened to them, I can’t be sure they’re dead.”

“Wow,” Spike mumbled, “we do have a lot in common…”

“Yeah,” Starlight gave Spike a soft smile, “we do.”

“Why don’t we hang out more?” Spike wondered aloud, “You’re a really cool person, but it seems like the only ponies I hang out with are Rarity, Twilight, and Big Mac.”

“Maybe we should fix that,” Starlight stood up, grinning, “Trixie’s magic show is tonight, so she’s busy doing some kind of personal ritual. I’m trying to distract myself from the fact I’m going on stage tonight.”

“You, the former leader of Our Town, have stage fright?” Spike smirked, “I heard you had a choreographed song-and-dance set up for visitors!”

“It was more of a march than a song-and-dance,” Starlight chuckled, quietly, “but this is completely different! I’m Trixie’s assistant! I could mess up everything with one mistake, ruining her show! Why did she plan it for a Friday the 13th, anyway?! Do you have any idea how hard it is to have that over your head? To be an assistant to a great and powerful magician, knowing that you could ruin her work with the slightest error?!”

Spike gave her a deadpan look and the unicorn remembered exactly whose Number One Assistant she was asking.

“Oh yeah,” she chuckled, nervously, “you do.”

“Starlight, listen,” Spike smiled, placing a hand on her shoulder, “the most important rule about being an assistant is to keep a level head and do what your boss tells you to. I’ve made plenty of mistakes, and sometimes Twilight gets mad, but does that mean I quit? No. You just need to calm down and go out there saying ‘even if I fail, I’ll just train harder so I don’t fail the next time’.”

“Wow,” Starlight blinked, feeling surprisingly soothed by the young dragon’s words, “that’s... thank you, Spike.”

“It also helps to distract yourself before an important assignment,” the dragon winked, giving a mischievous grin.

“Well, if that’s the case,” Starlight giggled, “let’s get lunch.”

“Sounds gr-” Spike began, then stopped, “Oh, right. I was going to talk to Twilight so we could sort out… this.”

“Oh… yeah…” Starlight’s ears drooped, “Spike, can I be honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“Have you ever had strong ideas for politics?” the unicorn asked, “Like, really radical changes you want to make because you absolutely believe they’ll make the world better?”

“Until recently, I’ve never even thought about politics,” Spike confessed, “I mean, I’m only about fourteen in pony years, and still considered a baby by most dragons.” After a moment, Spike furrowed his brow, “At least… I think I’m fourteen…”

“Well, after Sunburst left, I began studying politics and law. Small stuff at first, since I was only a filly, and by the time I was a teenager I was creating my own ideas and quit bothering to study. I like to think I came up with some good ideas, but some of them were… half-baked,” Starlight sighed, “I’ve been tweaking my old manifesto, trying to perfect it with stuff I’ve learned as Twilight’s student, and now with the stuff you’ve been saying about races and protective laws. Yet…”

She trailed off, unsure if she had lost the dragon in her rambling or not.

“Go on,” Spike nodded, encouragingly.

“After you left, Rainbow Dash sneered at my ideas for equality,” Starlight continued, “It reminded me of when I was just starting down this path; I’d always try to convince ponies of the need for change, but they would just laugh at my ideas and the say the current system worked fine. They didn’t care that there were unsupervised orphans living in their midst! They didn’t care that a fraction of ponies held all the wealth and power! They didn’t care about what was fair, because they had families! They had wealth! They had happiness!”

Starlight stopped, suddenly, catching her breath and clenching her eyes shut. When she opened them, she realized she was crying. Just as suddenly, Spike rushed into her chest and hugged her, deeply. Her painful emotions stopped, her shock overriding upset. Gradually they returned, but dimmed by the dragon’s compassion. She returned the hug after a moment.

“You don’t know what it’s like…” she continued, much quieter, “You don’t know what it’s like to want a better world, to struggle every day to convince those around you it can be done, always persecuted. You don’t know what it’s like to make a mistake, a mistake so big it discredits everything you believe in, and then have to live with that humiliation. I can never voice my beliefs again. No pony wants to hear them.”

“Maybe not a pony,” Spike said, pushing away and looking up at her, “but a dragon might.”

“Aren’t dragons inclined to hoarding?” Starlight asked, allowing a small smirk on her lips, “Equal distribution of wealth doesn’t sound like a good idea for the Dragon Lands.”

“So we tweak that idea,” Spike suggested, “How about… equality of opportunity, rather than equality of wealth?”

“What would that look like?” Starlight asked, starting the walk to find Twilight.

“Hmm…” the dragon tapped his chin, “Well, let’s see…”

As they searched for Twilight, Starlight posed political queries to Spike and listened as he sketched out his ideas. She noted flaws in his ideas, in his speech, his delivery, his image, and suggested corrections that helped him improve remarkably. She gave examples of proper oratory, quoting bits of her old rhetoric or scripture she found inspiring. She demonstrated how to stand in such a way that it both commanded respect from authority, but also inspired a sense of comradeship with the common pony. She made sure Spike understood how to defend his ideas from scrutiny. By the time they reached Twilight’s library, they were exchanging political theories and reinforcing their arguments. Starlight found herself laughing with pleasure.

“Spike, you’re really sharp!” she giggled, “I can see why you’re the Friendship Ambassador to two lands; you have a real head for politics.”

“They only put me in that position because I was already friends with their leaders,” Spike snorted, opening the door for Starlight, “I wish I knew more about politics. It’s actually more interesting when you teach it.”

“Well, if you feel that way,” the unicorn mused, “I would be honored if I could teach you everything I know on the subject.”

“What subject?” Twilight revealed herself from behind a stack of books she had been researching, startling her two friends, “Spike, you never told me you were interested in studying something.”

“Oh, well, I just found out, sort of…” Spike wringed his hands.

An awkwardness descended as all three waited for someone to break the ice. Starlight forced a smile on her lips.

“Well Spike, now’s a good time to put those ambassador skills to use,” she laughed at her own joke, eliciting small smiles from her friends.

“Alright,” the dragon chuckled, “Twilight, I just wanted to say… I’m sorry things have gotten so weird between us. I want to go back to the way things were, but at the same time I want you to… I don’t know, acknowledge my concerns, I guess.”

“I do acknowledge them, Spike,” Twilight smiled, getting teary-eyed, “and I’m sorry I said the things I did the other night. They were unfair and uncalled for. I’m just… I’m just having such a hard time opening my mind to the ideas you two have brought up.”

“I understand,” Starlight smiled, sadly, “Most ponies in Equestria have a hard time imagining the kind of world I want. I… I also wanted to say I understand I can’t make the world exactly how I want it, but I think we can change it in a way that every pony – and non-pony – would feel better about.”

“I’m listening,” Twilight nodded, readying herself.

“Oh, I don’t have anything prepared!” Starlight gaped, surprised she was on the spot so soon, “I-I’ve been tweaking my old manifesto, trying to merge my better ideas with Celestia’s teachings and the concerns Spike has. Actually, Spike here has proven very helpful. I might have to include him as a co-author.”

“What?” Spike blinked, “I haven’t really done anything.”

“Our talks on the way up here were actually very inspired and insightful,” Starlight explained, “You’ve given me a lot to consider for the rewrite.”

“I wasn’t aware this was a collaboration between you two,” Twilight chuckled, anxiously, “I… guess I’ve fallen out of the loop, lately.”

“We feel awful about that,” Starlight said, “We were actually going to go to lunch and wondered if you wanted to join us?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to be a third wheel…” Twilight wasn’t entirely lying.

“I guess I misspoke,” the unicorn giggled, “What I meant to say was, we’re going to lunch and we really, really wanted you to come along.”

The Princess smiled and trotted towards her friends. Immediately they all felt much better about the situation. There was a residual feeling of discomfort, but it was suppressed by the relief that they were all on speaking terms again, about to enjoy a day in town. For now, they let their fears of the future rest. As they left, Twilight spared one last look at the stack of books on her table.

Every one of them was a tome of ancient dragon myth and language.


…


“Princess,” Flim began, then corrected himself, “Tia…”

“You’re catching on,” Celestia’s laughter was rich, yet soft, “but while I am your instructor, I would prefer you address me by my appropriate title.”

“Told you,” Flam muttered, stifling a yawn.

“Princess,” Flim restarted, “my brother and I are excited to get started on our lessons…”

“As excited as two stallions can be,” Flam agreed, though tiredness robbed his voice of its usual speed.

“…but we just arrived in Canterlot this morning!” Flim finished, “Flam and I have only had five hours of sleep!”

“I promise this will not be a daily occurrence,” Celestia smiled with motherly affection, “Indeed, I usually encourage my students to enjoy their weekends, but I wanted to take advantage of this Friday to get a feel for how to structure our lesson plan.”

“You’re not even sure what to teach us?” Flam blinked, adjusting to the waking world.

“To be honest, I’ve never attempted to teach business ethics,” the alicorn frowned, “I’ve spent the last few centuries assuming every pony was still following my teachings and that businesses would naturally practice according to them.”

“A bit of an oversight, eh brother?” Flim mused, flinching at Celestia’s scowl, “Um, I mean, let’s begin!”

“Good,” Celestia nodded, “Now, we’re starting with a simple test.”

She led them into the royal courtyard where a wagon of several crates of bottles sat. Beside them stood a pegasus stallion. He had the demeanor and attitude of one of her Royal Guard, but was out of his armor.

“The test is simple and you won’t get in trouble if you do something wrong,” Celestia explained, “I merely wish to see what we’re working with. There are 200 bottles of a delicious fruit punch in the wagon. They were purchased at 2 bits a bottle. Naturally, the objective in business is to turn a profit.” She gestured towards the pegasus. “This is Gutsy Gust, one of the Royal Guard’s finest scouts. He will be watching your every move, but fear not; he is under orders not to interfere, merely to keep records.”

“You just want us to sell these bottles?” Flim furrowed his brow, trying to understand the angle.

“And turn a profit, brother,” Flam added.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Celestia smiled, “I just want to see how you two practice trade.”

Flim and Flam exchanged one last glance at each other before smiling.

“Don’t you fret, Princess, we’ll astound you!” Flim assured her.

“Amaze you!” Flam agreed.

“We won’t let you down!” they said in unison.

Celestia felt her smile fade as she watched the two trot off with the wagon and Gutsy Gust in tow. She had essentially handed a match to two arsonists. She wanted to trust them, but considering their track record extended to pony city-states outside of Equestria, she was worried they might use her test in such a way that would bring great harm to her city.

Slightly worried, Celestia went about the rest of her Friday duties to kill some time. The mundane meetings she had to attend were much shorter to her, her attention so derailed that the time slipped by and she had to be notified when each meeting was concluded. The entire day went by in a blitz. By sundown, a paranoid Celestia opened the doors to one of her personal sanctums and stopped dead in her tracks, astounded.

Resting atop chests overflowing with bits are the twins who have been driving the Princess mad with anxiety. They are reclining in lawn chairs resting upon the chests, each enjoying a bottle of some fluid. With a start, Celestia realizes the beverages are altered versions of the fruit punch she tasked them with selling.

“What in the name of Equestria did you do?!” Celestia gaped.

“Princess!” both twins grinned, hopping down from their chairs to bow before her.

“What is this?” the Princess asked.

“You told us to turn a profit,” Flim explained.

“So we turned a profit!” Flam laughed.

“Gutsy Gust, report,” Celestia ordered, unable to take her eyes off of the twins.

“Flim and Flam sold a crate of bottles individually, marking up their price 400% and advertising them as directly from Your Majesty’s royal vineyards.”

“I don’t have any vineyards!” Celestia gaped, “There’s not even any grapes in those drinks…”

“They used the proceeds to acquire several barrels and additional crates of bottles they found on clearance,” Gutsy Gust continued, “They proceeded to water down the remaining fruit punch to double the quantity. Using what was left of their initial money, they rented a carbonator to make the drinks bubbly, bottled them, and attached a branded logo to the bottles bearing your likeness. They sold the new drinks at 10 bits a bottle.”

“10 bits?!” Celestia looked horrified, “How many bottles did you sell?!”

“Let’s see…” Flim tapped his chin, “200 bottles, minus a crate of 20…”

“That leaves 180 bottles,” Flam continued, “and Gutsy over here is mistaken – we did not double our stock by watering the original product down!”

“You didn’t?” Celestia asked, sighing in relief.

“We tripled it!” the twins laughed at their brilliance.

“That made 540 bottles,” Flim explained.

“…and 5,400 bits!” Flam chortled.

“Then, when we were sold out, we sold the ‘rights’ to a bottling company for another 10,000 bits!” Flim wiped a tear from his eye, “By the time they realize they didn’t buy anything, we’ll be…”

The twins quit laughing, realizing the next phase of their usual business plan was to skip town – something they couldn’t do, considering they were under the auspices of the Princess and thus stuck in Canterlot.

“Well,” Celestia forced a smile, “I did tell you that you wouldn’t get in trouble…”

“So…” Flim looked over his shoulder at the wealth, “We get to keep the bits?”

“There are a few laws in place over some of the lines you’ve crossed,” Celestia explained, “The 10,000 will have to be returned to the bottling company, but I will talk them out of pressing charges. As for the 5,400 earned from the original supplies, it was quite an ingenious turnaround, and no pony was hurt. However, you used my image without my permission, which is against the law.”

“Oh,” the Flam said as he and his brother deflated, “What exactly is the punishment for that?”

“There are two laws, actually,” Celestia giggled, “The first is for using someone’s likeness or designs without their permission; we do have copyrights and patenting in this country. That’s punishable by lawsuit and heavy fines, possibly even exceeding the profit made if one had the right lawyers.”

The twins gulped, considering Celestia had access to the best lawyers in Equestria and was, technically, in charge of the courts and above the laws.

“And the second law?” Flim asked, worried.

“Using the likeness of a Princess without royal approval,” Celestia mused, smirking, “an archaic law. The punishment is death.”

The stallions gasped.

“Or exile,” Celestia laughed, “But relax; I always thought those punishments excessive. While I can’t save your 10,000 ill-gotten bits, I can drop my personal charges and protect the 5,400 you made.”

“Well, that’s still more than we’ve made in a long time!” Flim said and he and his brother cheered up, immensely.

“I hope you’ve learned that bad business practices will lead ultimately lead to financial ruin,” Celestia explained, “Out of curiosity, if you frequently turn such a profit, why are you two not obscenely wealthy?”

“We lose our bits just as fast,” Flam admitted, almost with pride.

“You have to spend money to make money!” Flim agreed.

“A very shortsighted viewpoint,” Celestia sighed, “I hope that, by educating you in more ethical practices, we can educate the other business-ponies out there and change Equestria’s economy for the better. The enterprising spirit of ponies, tenderly steered by our vision.”

“Kind of takes the ‘free’ out of ‘free market’ though, doesn’t it?” Flam asked.

“I’m not seizing all private enterprises and putting them under state management,” Celestia snorted, “I’m merely regulating the market to keep it from collapse and exploiting the common pony.”

“I’m not sure we feel comfortable with this…” Flim admitted.

“Think of it as a system to help the two of you, as well,” Celestia suggested, “My lessons will help you manage your profits better and foster positive economic connections. Imagine a life where you always have money, where you’re actually welcomed into city-states instead of driven out. It would be… very profitable.”

“Hmm, she does paint a pretty picture…” Flam admitted, staring at the Princess. She smiled at him, and he blushed as he realized she caught him staring.

“Indeed, brother,” Flim agreed, missing his twin’s innuendo as he looked forlornly at their soon-to-be-reduced fortune, “If she’s right, though, we could make five times this amount and hold onto it.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Celestia addressed the pair, “what do your Cutie Marks symbolize? Were you faming apples when you earned them?”

“These old things?” Flam said as both brothers displayed their flanks, “We got them together, working on a scheme for bits as colts, involving apples. Near as we can tell, it means our special talent is devising schemes together.”

“So, you are not certain on the matter?” Celestia arched an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Well,” Flim frowned at the question, “we know for certain it means we work best as a duet – we’ve tried solo acts, and they always end in disaster!”

“But I suppose our talent isn’t exclusive to schemes…” Flam admitted, thinking back, “We did put considerable effort into some of our endeavors without cutting corners.”

“And, come to think of it, if our talents were in bit-making,” Flim furrowed his brow, “how come we can’t hold onto money?”

“Perhaps,” Celestia suggested with a smile, “we should consult some Cutie Mark experts.” 
> 7
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


7


Twilight felt uncomfortable in the audience. The last time she had gone to one of Trixie’s shows, it hadn’t ended well for any pony. Now, though, she was obligated to attend. Starlight had invited her since she was Trixie’s assistant, and the Princess wasn’t about to deny them so soon after mending their friendship. Besides, Spike was already going and returning to the castle just to avoid Trixie was insanely petty. It also would mean she’d be stuck inside, alone, on a Friday evening, while nearly every pony in town was at the show.

Sighing, Twilight took her seat of honor beside her friends. Only once she sat down did she realize how Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie, and Applejack were sitting on the other side of Spike, using him as a buffer from Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and herself. She suppressed a groan. How had she forgotten to resolve the overall friendship crisis? She was so focused on fixing her personal quarrel, she had neglected her responsibility to help repair all their quarrels.

Why were ponies so contentious when it came to politics?

This problem needed to be solved quickly; her friends being sulky was one thing, but two days with no sign of relief was getting ridiculous. Before she could begin, however, every pony (and Spike) began applauding. Returning her vision to the stage, the Princess saw the show was beginning. A single spotlight was illuminating the center curtains, and in a puff of smoke, Starlight Glimmer appeared.

The unicorn wore the same outfit she had been wearing when Discord had teleported her into the castle two nights earlier: a black singlet with a red bowtie, white cuffs around her foreleg hooves, and fishnet stockings leading to black shoes on her hind legs. The audience was briefly stunned, most of the stallions’ mouths gaping open. Twilight noticed Spike snort a plume of green-tinged smoke before covering his snout, blushing. The Princess couldn’t help but crack a wry grin in amusement at her assistant’s behavior.

“Fillies and gentlecolts!” Starlight announced, managing to keep her embarrassment under check, “Prepare to be astounded by the one…”

Lights turned on behind the curtains, displaying a larger-than-life outline of Trixie upon them.

“…the only…”

Music began playing out of nowhere. Fluttershy seemed immensely pleased at this, something Twilight only noticed because a moment before she had been sulking.

“…the Great…”

Several fireworks shot up.

“…and Powerful…” Starlight’s voice echoed with the firework detonations as they spelled out the name on her lips, “Trrrrrrixie!”

The curtains were swept aside as smoke billowed out and dissipated. Every pony cheered, then stopped in confusion as the smoke cleared and revealed an empty stage. The audience began murmuring to one another.

“TA-DA!” Trixie announced from behind Twilight, standing atop the back wall of Twilight’s VIP box, eliciting a startled yelp from the Princess. That yelp was drowned out in renewed applause.

“Trixie, how did you…?” Twilight began to ask.

“Ah-ah,” Trixie smirked, jumping over her head to get back to the stage, “a magician never tells her secrets!”

“Okay,” the Princess allowed a smile to cross her lips, “now I’m interested.”

“Uh-oh,” Spike mumbled, “Twi has that ‘analytical’ look on her face, again.”

Despite the tension, her friends giggled and allowed themselves to look at the other half without scowling.

They watched the show with a mix of fascination and intrigue. Some of the tricks were old, and Twilight and her friends knew how they worked, but with Starlight’s help Trixie had made her equipment look brand new. Every now and then, something they thought was an easily-explained trick turned into something unexplainable – like when Trixie sawed Starlight in half, but the lower half got up and tap-danced. Only Fluttershy seemed not to question, but they all enjoyed the show.

“You’ve all been a wonderful audience!” Trixie said, “but we have one, final act before the night is over!”

“Are you going to be eaten by a manticore again?” a figure in the audience asked, earning a glare from Trixie.

“No…” the magician regained her composure, “Tonight, the Great and Powerful Trixie will perform the greatest magic of all!”

“Well don’t leave us in suspense,” the same figure said.

“Cranky Doodle, is that you?!” Trixie demanded, satisfied when it was silent, “First, Trixie will need a volunteer from the audience!”

After giving a pathetic attempt at scanning, Trixie gasped and pointed at Twilight.

“It seems we have a Princess here tonight!” the magician exclaimed, “Surely the Princess of Friendship could accomplish any task set to her by one so humble as Trixie!”

All eyes turned toward Twilight, who only sighed in resignation. Her friends were smiling at her and Starlight was almost pleading with her eyes to do it. The Princess trotted to the stage, a little hesitant but ultimately giddy to be part of the act. She took her place beside Trixie, smiling nervously at the applause.

“Okay Trixie, so what do you need me to do?” she asked, quiet enough that only the two of them could be heard.

“All Trixie requires of you is to stand still and look pretty,” the magician smirked, “Think you can handle that?”

“Shouldn’t be too hard, since that’s all you do,” Twilight said.

“W-what?” Trixie was wide-eyed.

“The standing around, I meant!” Twilight winced, “Not the… look, I was try to use a witty retort; I’m really bad at those!”

“O-okay then,” Trixie cleared her throat and resumed her show-pony-ship, “Tonight, the Great and Powerful Trixie will perform the greatest trick ever yet performed! She shall become…”

A drum roll played out of nowhere as Trixie built up suspense. Twilight found herself leaning in along with the audience.

“…a Princess!”

The crowd gasped, exploding into muttering questions about how such a thing could be done. Twilight only knitted her brow. Hypothetically, a non-Princess could become a Princess; she was proof of that. Still, how in Equestria did Trixie figure it out?

“It will be all the easier,” Starlight said as she trotted over, her and Trixie’s horns glowing and levitating a startled Twilight above them as the crux of an impromptu pyramid, “with a Princess volunteer!”

Before Twilight could question what was happening, a bright flash blinded her. When she opened her eyes, Trixie had a pair of long, blue wings in addition to her horn. Stunned, Twilight tried to fly out of the magic levitating her only to discover her own wings were missing. Panic gripped her as the audience exploded into astonished cheers. Even Cranky Doodle was impressed.

“Behold!” the newly-raised alicorn laughed with delight, “Trrrrixie, the Great and Powerful Princess of… uh… Magic Shows!”

With her newfound alicorn magic, Trixie spawned a stupendous display of fireworks that briefly illuminated the sky in a colored portrait of herself in the most ostentatious of royal jewelry and silk clothing. The audience continued to cheer as she created even more fabulous images. Twilight felt herself beginning to hyperventilate and Starlight, seeing this, approached Trixie and whispered in her ear.

“Aww…” the magician pouted, “Already?” Seeing Twilight’s panic, she sighed, “Okay, fine… Now, the Great and Powerful Princess Trixie will return this gift back to its volunteer.”

Although a little sulky, Trixie kept her word and they reformed the triangle. In another flash, Twilight became an alicorn once more as Trixie reverted to her unicorn self. Although a little upset at being normal again, the sheer volume of the applause more than made up for it. Trixie smiled and made a grand bow, gesturing for Starlight and Twilight to join her. Twilight only did so with a numbness that comes after feeling violated.

“Trixie realizes a magician isn’t supposed to reveal her tricks,” the unicorn announced, “but it would be poor form if she did not give credit where credit is due. Starlight Glimmer is not my only assistant this evening; fillies and gentlecolts, please put your hooves together for the God of Chaos himself!”

In a whoosh of dramatic flame and whirling demons that had not been part of Trixie’s plan, Discord strolled out of a rip in space-time wearing his suit and top-hat, chaos-star-topped cane in his hand.

“Thank you, thank you!” he bowed to the applause. Fluttershy was cheering louder than any pony, and Twilight finally put the pieces together that she knew he was involved from the beginning. “I-I don’t know what to say! I haven’t a thing prepared!” the draconequus pulled out and unrolled a large scroll, fixing his monocle, “Let’s see… I’d like to start by thanking a Mr. Gene Roddenberry…”

“That’s great, Discord!” Trixie interrupted, “But Trixie is sure the audience would rather like to go home in wonder! Not boredom…”

“Oh, fine! Have it your way,” Discord sighed, snapping the list away.

They performed a few more bows and headed back stage, choosing to wait out the dispersal of the crowd. Starlight and Trixie spared a worried look at Twilight, who looked absolutely distraught. Before they could inquire tactfully, Discord took note.

“Gee, Princess, you’re not looking too hot,” he noted in his usual dry sarcasm, “Don’t tell me being a unicorn for two minutes was too much for you.”

“Discord!” Starlight hissed.

“Discord!” Fluttershy cheered as she fluttered through the curtains, the rest of their friends close on her heels, “You were amazing tonight!”

“I knew you had to have something to do with this,” Applejack chuckled, but her bravado faltered, “Though, uh… how much did you contribute?”

“Ah-ah,” Discord mimicked the magician as he hugged Fluttershy, “magicians never reveal their secrets.”

“I have to say that was pretty awesome,” Rainbow Dash admitted to Trixie, “I’d even go so far as to say the Wonderbolts could learn a thing or two on show-pony-ship from you.”

“It was marvelous!” Rarity agreed, then noticed Twilight, “I say, Twilight, are you feeling alright?”

Immediately all eyes turned towards her.

“I feel… wrong,” she said, simply.

“Did you mess up the trick?” Trixie asked Discord, “You assured Trixie that no pony would be harmed!”

“I did not mess up!” Discord scoffed, “I am a god, remember?!”

“I never gave you permission to take my-my princess-ship away from me!” Twilight snapped, silencing the bickering magicians.

“I’m not sure ‘princess-ship’ is a word,” Starlight joked, trying to defuse the situation, “but, you are the librarian…”

“This isn’t funny, Starlight!” Twilight huffed, “You stole my powers and gave them to a pony with a history of abusing magic!”

“Twilight…” Fluttershy warned as she saw the hurt in Trixie’s eyes, the hardening of Starlight and Discord’s features.

“I would have thought that, after saving Equestria, Trixie would have earned your trust,” Starlight said, steadily, “I thought we all would have earned your trust by now. Especially me.”

“Well,” Twilight spluttered, “Trust rescinded! You can’t just take my powers without telling me! That was really, really freaky!”

“Don’t be mad at Starlight, Princess,” Trixie stepped up, “It was Trixie’s idea, and she apologizes.”

The magician used one of her flourished bows, startling everyone with her humility. Twilight felt confusion. Her mind was still racing with panic at how easily she had lost her powers, at how quickly she had been returned to a regular unicorn. It brought up her hidden fears that she wasn’t a real alicorn – that her position as a Princess was a sham. She always viewed Trixie with mistrust, always frustrated at the unicorn’s disrespect towards her, and now – when Twilight had a right to be angry – here was that same unicorn humbling herself and apologizing. Combined with all the other messes the last few days had produced, she lost her cool.

“I don’t want an apology!” she snapped, “I want a promise – an oath! – that you will never put my right to rule in question again!”

“Twilight, where is this coming from?” Starlight gasped as her friends recoiled.

“Princess Twilight!” the alicorn was more than a little manic, but slowly reigned herself in, standing with all the poise and grace of Celestia. For an instant, her friends recognized her near-divinity, forgetting for a moment that Twilight was exclusively their friend. “Do I not have the right to defend what is mine? It’s not fair for any pony to simply take the power of an alicorn for themselves. It is a birthright, or in my case, it is earned.”

Starlight helped Trixie off of the floor where her curtsy had become a cower.

“Well, you might be an alicorn princess,” Starlight said, “but you’re not behaving like a Princess of Friendship, right now. Come on, Trixie, let’s go!”

“T-Trixie apologized…” the magician muttered, numbly following her best friend, “What about the oath…?”

“Forget the oath!” Starlight said, “If Her Majesty is so worried about her right to rule, then maybe she should get a Royal Guard to protect her from her friends!”

Twilight shuddered with a mixture of rage and sorrow, screaming at herself for blowing things out of proportion – again! Seriously, what was up with that? She usually handled these situations so well, but with so many stacked on top of each other at the same time… how did Celestia put up with it so well, by herself, for a thousand years?!

“Well, that was uncalled for,” Rarity stomped a hoof in reserved indignation.

“Yeah… I guess I was out of line, again…” Twilight admitted, her composure slipping.

“Oh, no!” Rarity assured her, “You were well within your rights! They had no right to perform such a trick on you without your permission! They completely disrespected your status as a Princess.”

“What?!” Pinkie Pie exclaimed, “Trixie, Starlight, and Discord only played a little trick on her! It wasn’t even a prank, and they’re all friends! And she volunteered for it! No offense, Twilight, but you did overreact!”

“Look Pinkie,” Rainbow Dash interjected, “I thought it was a cool trick, too, but I’ve already told you that you can’t play certain pranks on certain ponies! This obviously upset Twilight, like, a lot.”

“And it was rather rude, when you think about it,” Rarity continued, “Would they have even considered pulling that on Princess Celestia or Luna?”

“I would in a heartbeat,” Discord laughed, “Oh, the look on Tia’s face!”

“Supernatural immortals aside…” Rarity murmured, “The point is, Trixie wouldn’t have performed her sleight of hand on the other Princesses, but she chose to ignore Twilight’s own status as a Princess. It’s disrespectful. Twilight is a Princess, and one should respect such titles.”

“Respect the status, you mean,” Applejack grunted, “After all, wouldn’t want the Princesses being treated like us rabble.”

“Oh, don’t start that up again!” Rarity rolled her eyes.

“Oh, don’t you remember, darling?” Pinkie Pie asked Applejack in an exaggerated posh accent, “You aren’t rabble because you own land!”

“Hey, cut it out, Pinkie!” Rainbow Dash scowled, “Why don’t you guys just let it go?”

“Because Rarity still believes it,” Fluttershy said, “Don’t you, Rarity?”

“Why am I suddenly the villain for appreciating the wisdom of the system that has kept Equestria stable for more than a thousand years?” Rarity asked, “Only ponies with a vested interest in the government should be allowed to participate, and even that is needless clutter. The nobility act in the interests of their regions and have provided prosperity for their subjects under Celestia’s guidance, so why should we muddy things up by letting any pony interfere whenever they feel like it?”

“What about non-ponies with vested interests?” Spike asked, suddenly, startling the unicorn.

“Well, no offense Spikey,” Rarity’s giggle was like tinkling glass from a chandelier, “but Equestria’s name comes from Old Ponish for horse…”

“Oh, so it’s just a land for ponies?” Spike asked, bristling.

“I didn’t say that,” Rarity snorted, derisively, unaware that Twilight was practically shrinking back, “It’s just that, well, there’s nothing in our laws that says we have to include non-ponies in government. It’s a land for ponies, by ponies, but not exclusive to ponies. Why, you have an ambassador’s position and you’re not a pony!”

“So I’m involved in the government,” Spike smoothed his features, “I suppose that means I have a vested interest in the government?”

“Look,” Rarity sighed in agitation, “I’m saying that nobility should run things, not ponies with no experience.”

“What about dragons with experience?” Spike pressed.

Rarity racked her mind for a way to say no without starting some debacle. Some ponies – well, dragons too, apparently – couldn’t handle the truth very well. What was with her friends’ sudden interest in fiddling with the government? Would having every pony vote on issues really improve anything? No! In fact, it might make it worse. Bureaucracy was a dreadfully droll affair that ultimately bogged down and ruined governing, and it was made all the worse by the fact it was managed by those not of the Blood.

“I’m sorry, Spike, but no,” Rarity shook her head, “Perhaps if you formed a committee of non-ponies as us crafts-ponies would form a guild… That way, you can voice your concerns to the government?”

Spike was about to rage, then suddenly calmed. He tapped his chin.

“Form a committee…” he mused, “Huh… That might help… I’ll catch up with you guys later, I’ve got some work to do.”

Before Twilight could ask, the dragon sprinted off.

“I say, I’ve never seen Spikey-wikey act quite so rude to me, before,” Rarity blinked, “Twilight, do dragons go through… oh, there’s no polite way to ask this, I apologize, but do they go through puberty?”

Twilight was too stunned to answer; considering she wasn’t entirely sure how dragon physiology or aging worked, she didn’t have one anyway. Fluttershy replied instead.

“Rarity!” the pegasus came as close to snapping as she ever did, “You were the one being rude!”

“Whatever did I do?” Rarity was flabbergasted.

“You told Spike he couldn’t have a voice in government!” Applejack pointed out.

“Ah, but I also said I didn’t believe any pony outside of nobility should manage it,” Rarity corrected, “and I suggested he organize a committee to voice the concerns to said nobles.”

“But,” Fluttershy stepped forward, “you also told him that – if non-nobles were to run the government – he still shouldn’t have a say because he’s not a pony.”

“Did I say that?” Rarity furrowed her brow, trying to recall.

“And you told him Equestria was basically for ponies!” Pinkie Pie added.

“Well, to be fair, that was what its founders intended,” Rarity held her chin up, mane bobbing, “and as I explained to Spike, non-ponies are just as welcome; it’s just the laws were written with ponies in mind. Really now, I don’t remember being as crass as you paint it!”

“Oh, you weren’t,” Applejack scowled, “You gussied your words up and spun them around to sound like you were preaching scripture! Trouble is, we understood what you were really saying!”

“AJ, back off!” Rainbow Dash got between Rarity and the others, “Why are you all attacking her?”

“Why are you defending her?” Fluttershy asked.

“Rarity’s the one at fault here,” the farm-pony agreed.

“I beg to differ!” Rainbow scoffed, “Look, I don’t really care for the whole voting thing, and I really don’t understand politics – it’s boring! Leave it to those stuffy nobles! Rarity also has a point about Equestria being founded by ponies, and why should we change it? Ponies and non-ponies are free to come and go as they please, and they can even settle here! Writing new laws would be pointless!”

“I can’t believe you’re being this short-sighted!” Applejack hoof-palmed, “Oh wait, yes I can!”

“And that right there is why I’m defending Rarity!” Rainbow growled, “You three are being way too aggressive! Coming from me, that’s saying something!”

“She implied non-ponies don’t belong in Equestria,” Fluttershy said, “Even if that’s not what she said, it’s how she said it.”

“Oh, so what?” the cyan pegasus rolled her eyes, “Technically they don’t. I mean, look at our government! Look at the Wonderbolts! All ponies. The vast majority of Equestria is made up of ponies. Heck, almost every non-pony I’ve met came here from somewhere else! Why should Rarity or I be sorry for standing by the truth?”

“One, I ain’t certain it is the truth,” Applejack asserted, “and I think being the Element of Honesty gives me some authority on the matter.”

“And two, it matters because it shows how you two really feel about Spike,” Fluttershy added.

“What?” Rainbow shook her head, “Wait, no! That stuff… I didn’t mean Spike! I meant, like, other non-ponies. I keep forgetting Spike isn’t a pony.”

“Oh, but it’s totally okay that all non-ponies be treated like outsiders?” Pinkie asked, “I mean, that is what you implied.”

“You three are projecting your outlandish interpretations onto us!” Rarity sniffed, “We never said such vulgar things!”

“Not exactly, no,” Applejack said, “but beneath all your dodging, that’s what you’ve been throwing out there.”

“Yeah, well, it looks like you’re the one who’s throwing stuff out there,” the sporty pegasus retorted, “Come on, Rares, we don’t have to put up with this!”

“Perhaps we can enjoy each other’s company somewhere less brutish,” Rarity snipped as she followed Rainbow Dash.

“So now we’re brutes, huh?” Applejack called after them as they disappeared into the night.

“I can’t believe this!” Pinkie clutched her head, “Everything’s been going super crazy lately! Twilight, how could you just stand there while they told Spike he wasn’t a real pony? I mean, obviously he’s not a real pony, but he’s just as important as the rest of us!”

“I…” the Princess sighed, “I shouldn’t have freaked out!”

She rocketed into the sky, fighting back tears before her friends could stop her. Fluttershy was tempted to follow, but the Princess moved too fast and the night sky was too dark; it’d be a fruitless endeavor. Slowly, the friends fell into a guilty silence.

“Maybe we were too harsh…” the yellow pegasus said at last.

“Don’t be foolish, my dear,” Discord chided, “I was actually quite moved by what you did tonight.”

“Well, that’s reassuring,” Applejack murmured.

“I’m serious!” the deity assured them, “Rarity was incredibly rude to Spike, and indeed, rude to the three of you! All you were doing was speaking the truth. Her and Rainbow couldn’t see it, of course, because from their perspective, everything looked and sounded different.”

“Well, then their perspective is wrong!” the farm-pony scowled.

“On the contrary; both of your perspectives are correct,” the draconequus chuckled, “You’re all interpreting the same evidence from different points of view, you see?”

“Oh, like looking at a seven-layer cake from different angles?!” Pinkie Pie hopped, excitedly.

“Exactly!” Discord laughed, delighted at her confectionary analogy, “You mortals are stuck in a static view of the cake from one perspective at a time, and that’s shaped by your emotions and personal experiences. Rarely, a being might actually take the time to examine the whole cake, but ultimately, they can only ever see it from a few different angles at one time. I, on the other hand, can see the entire cake at the same instant!”

“How in tarnation do you manage that?” Applejack asked.

“God of Chaos, remember?” Discord smirked, “If there’s one thing I can understand, it’s a broken picture – and it doesn’t get more broken than millions of ponies debating politics from independent viewpoints. Honestly, I can scarcely imagine something more chaotic!”

“So, they were right to act that way, too…?” Fluttershy asked.

“Oh, heavens, no!” the draconequus waved a hand, dismissively, “They did exactly as you said, and rather than think about it, they accused you of twisting their words around. All they had to do was think about what they said, how they said it, and why they said it, and they would have realized they are biased! But I’ve rarely met a pony who owns up to their bias. Heck, even I’m biased towards agreeing with Fluttershy! Otherwise, I have no interest in mortal politics.”

“You know a lot of ponies besides us?” Applejack asked.

“Touché,” Discord chuckled, “Now, I say we do something fun before the night’s through to get our minds off this little debacle. It is Friday the 13th, after all, and that’s my kind of day!”

“What about the others?” Fluttershy asked.

“Oh, just apologize to them tomorrow or something,” Discord rolled his eyes, “I don’t think you did anything wrong, but ponies like them won’t admit they’re at fault, so you might as well suck it up and make the first gesture. Now, who’s up for some ice skating?”

“During October?” Applejack balked, “Winter ain’t for… Oh yeah, I forgot who I was talking to.”

“Shall we?” the God Chaos gestured towards the nearest pond. The mares exchanged looks before smiling and nodding in agreement.

The night might have been a disaster so far, but that didn’t mean it had to end as such.


…


Apple Bloom was walking beside Big Macintosh as he pulled the wagon carrying Granny Smith and the stools they’d brought to watch the show on. The youngest of the Apples was too excited to sit still for the walk back to Sweet Apple Acres, and while it was the weekend, it was also after dark and none of her friends were allowed out after dark – including her. So she channeled that energy into skipping around the wagon, gushing about the fireworks.

“I wonder what I’d be Princess of if I could get that done to me?” she mused.

“Why would you wanna be a Princess?” Granny Smith asked.

“I wouldn’t,” Apple Bloom admitted, “I just wanna know what I’d be if I was.”

“Cutie Marks,” Big Mac said simply.

“Huh,” the filly smirked, “Princess of Cutie Marks. I could live with that.”

“Apple Bloom!” they heard a voice cry.

Big Mac stopped and all three Apples looked around for the source, finding a young drake rushing towards them, scroll in hand. He stopped, panting and they waited for him to catch his breath.

“What is it Spike?” Apple Bloom asked, smiling. She always liked it when Spike talked to her; he was at once similar to and completely different from all the colts she knew.

Still catching his breath, Spike handed her a scroll. She blinked, wondering if this was some invitation to hang out. Spike did enjoy making romantic gestures, but never towards her. She felt a blush creep along her cheeks, but took the scroll. Opening it, her eyes widened and all theories of romance were tossed out the window.

“Well, I’ll be!” she declared, “It’s a royal summons from Princess Celestia!”

“Goodness gracious, Apple Bloom,” Granny Smith frowned, “what in the name of sassafras have you gotten into now?”

“A job, apparently,” the filly smirked, “The Princess has requested the other Crusaders and I go to Canterlot to help with a Cutie Mark problem. Says here she’ll pay for everything, even send an escort to carry us to and from the city if transportation’s a problem!”

“Let me see that!” the Apple matriarch took the scroll and squinted to read it, “Well, butter my flank and call me a biscuit, it’s true!”

“It also says we can bring a chaperone, if it’d make y’all feel better,” Apple Bloom read over Granny Smith’s shoulder, “Wonder why she recommended you, brother.”

“Me?” Big Mac raised an eyebrow.

“Says something about seeing a…” Apple Bloom smirked, deviously, “seeing an old flame in Canterlot! Big Mac, you sure get around, don’t you?”

“I never dated anyone in-” the stallion began, then stopped. His pupils shrunk. He forgot he had gone to the carnival with Princess Luna once. “Uh oh.”

“Well, if it’s a mare you ain’t interested in anymore, just tell her you’re seeing Sugar Belle, now,” his sister suggested.

“Sugar Belle?” Granny Smith tapped her chin, “Whatever happened to that Marble filly...?”

“Wait, Marble Pie?” Spike asked, “Isn’t she your cousin?”

“Spike, was there something else?” Apple Bloom asked, suddenly, “I’m not sure how this works. Do we tip you, or…?”

“I’m not a telegram service,” Spike deadpanned, “Don’t worry about it. I was on my way to work on a project, but then these letters came… It’s actually too late to do what I wanted to, anyway.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Apple Bloom frowned, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Actually, could you give these letters to Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle when you see them?” the dragon handed her two more scrolls, “It’s late and I need to get home.”

“No problem, Spike,” Apple Bloom smiled, “Will you see me off?”

“Sure!” Spike smiled, “Just tell me when, and I’ll be there.”

They said their goodbyes and parted ways. Spike felt his mind grow sluggish as he entered the castle and went to his bed, completely unaware that he was the sole occupant.


…


Starlight’s dream had been an erratic mess. She was dreaming two dreams at once, seeing things from two perspectives. One was her as a little girl, chided for her ideas, sneered at, looked down upon, and persecuted. She couldn’t properly defend her “wishful thinking” as every pony told her, simply, that her beliefs had no value in their society.

The other dream was her as a tyrant, bound in chains as certainly as her subjects. Here, her wishful thinking had been gradually whittled down until only a totalitarianism remained. She was forcefully happy, trying to keep up the image that her ideals had improved society when really she had only ruined it. She had forsaken every value she stood for in order to get that far, and once in power she couldn’t seem to make things right again.

The tyrant Starlight oppressed and chided the child Starlight; the image of hopeless resignation bearing down on withering optimism. Yet, despite the onslaught, the young Starlight held on like a guttering candle flame that wouldn’t stay extinguished; weak, yet lasting. Finally, Princess Luna came and put the two Starlights back together, bringing the dreamer into conscious thought.

“Princess Luna!” Starlight stumbled into a confused curtsy, trying to adjust to having one mind and body.

“This has certainly been one of the more bizarre dreams I’ve visited,” Luna looked around at the color choices, the aesthetics, “I’ve never seen a pony dream as separate ponies before… It was very interesting to witness.”

“Thank you for getting me out of there!” Starlight inhaled, adjusting to being conscious once more, “That was… that was creepy.”

“It is not a problem, my little pony,” Luna smiled, gently, “It is my job, after all, and that job is not finished.”

“Oh,” Starlight stood straighter, “Okay, so what’s the other job?”

“I must help you process your nightmare,” Luna explained, “Now, would you like to explain it, or should I extrapolate from what I’ve seen?”

“I’m curious what you think it was about,” the unicorn confessed, “You’re the dream expert, after all.”

“Alright,” Luna smirked at the compliment, “It seemed to me that you were challenging your own beliefs while simultaneously defending them.”

“Yeah, that’s right…” Starlight sighed.

“The older version of you tried to destroy the beliefs the younger version of you held,” Luna continued, making Starlight perk up, “but she was unsuccessful. Why do you think that is?”

“Because I can’t let go of the past?” the unicorn guessed.

“I think it’s because you genuinely believe you’re right,” Luna explained, “and the only reason your older self even formed was to represent the views held by every pony else. She was you as a tyrant, not you as you are, nor you as a youthful idealist. I believe she was your doubts about your beliefs, reinforced by years of ponies telling you they’d never work.”

“Are… are you saying my ideas could work?” Starlight asked, brightening at the prospect.

“Some of them, certainly,” Luna smiled, then leaned in conspiratorially, “I’ve actually read a good deal of ‘new age’ politics since I returned from my banishment. The Constitution of the Republic of Marexico, the Rights of Ponies from Prance, and your manifesto…”

“I had no idea you were a student of politics,” Starlight said, then realized how stupid that sounded, “Wait, you’re a Princess. Of course you’d study politics!”

“You’d be surprised how little my sister knows on the subject,” Luna stated, dryly, “She has been operating by the same politics for more than a thousand years – she just dresses it up with moral lessons taught to her students, several of whom went off to become villains!”

“I thought Sunset Shimmer was pretty nice,” Starlight chuckled, “I see what you mean, though. It takes more than lessons and trust to change some ponies…”

“Exactly, but no pony is really clamoring for reform anymore,” Luna noted, “Outside of Equestria, there are republics, and some city-states desperately want republics, but within our borders, no pony seemed to care. Except you.”

“Don’t remind me…” Starlight muttered.

“No, I think this is a good thing,” Luna smiled, “I worried I was the only one. I… I have a proposition for you.”

“I’m listening…”

“Ever since I’ve seen the mare Twilight has grown into in just two short years, I’ve wanted to take on a student of my own,” Luna said, blushing a little at how foolish it sounded, “Celestia and I were supposed to be working on amending Equestrian law to protect non-ponies, but she’s taken on two more students, on top of her usual duties, and we barely see each other as it is. I was hoping that you might be interested in coming to Canterlot to study with me. Frankly, it would be a learning experience for me, too.”

“Y-you want me to study with you?” Starlight grinned, then frowned, “I don’t know… I studied politics all the time growing up… What more could I learn?”

“You’re an adult now, with world experiences,” Luna said, “the texts will mean something different. Additionally, how many republican and radical texts did you have access to?”

“Well, they were mostly a few abridged compendiums,” Starlight noted, knitting her brow, “Hey, now that you mention it, they were all compiled by authors in Equestria!”

“And they likely twisted the translations, cutting things out, to make the ideologies seem less palatable,” Luna sighed, “If Tia knew about these kinds of tricks, she’d never have allowed it! My sister and I detest censorship. If you come to study in Canterlot, you will have access to our library; we have the original works in the original languages, as well as direct – unabridged – translations.”

“Wow!” the unicorn hopped in place, as excited as Pinkie Pie, then stopped, blushing, “I mean, that sounds great and all, but I can’t just up and leave…”

“What if I give you until next Friday to think about it and prepare?” Luna asked, letting a little eagerness show through; she regained composure, “You could, um, talk it over with Twilight. If you wanted, you could bring along a friend or two who might be interested in studying.”

“I’m not sure if she’d be interested in studying,” Starlight tapped her chin, “but Trixie might be interested in accompanying me in Canterlot. It’d also give us some breathing space from Twilight while things cool down. You know what? Yeah! I will study with you! Just give me a week to get everything squared away.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Luna beamed, “A student of my own! Tia will so impressed. Until then, Starlight Glimmer.”

“See you then, Princess Luna,” the unicorn curtsied as Luna faded from the dream.

The rest of her sleep was filled with something she had been afraid to feel for some time: a passionate vision. Finally, she had a chance to put her ideas into words again, without being condemned.
She wasn’t going to ruin it this time.
> 8
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


8


“Twilight?” the voice penetrated into the mare’s mind and brought her out of her sleep.

Blinking for a few moments as he eyes adjusted to the dawn’s light, the Princess of Friendship found herself looking up into Rainbow Dash’s face. Slowly Twilight realized she had spent the night on a cloud.

“Where am I?” she asked, sitting up as Rainbow gave her space.

“Just past Sweet Apple Acres,” the pegasus explained, sitting beside the alicorn as she gathered her bearings, “You’re lucky I needed to get the is cloud ready for some rain over the pond or you might’ve kept drifting.”

“What day is it?” Twilight shook her head.

“It’s Saturday,” Rainbow yawned, “and early, too. I hate working the morning shift…”

“Saturday morning?” the Princess groaned, “I really did spend all night on a cloud! Oh no, Spike!”

“Relax, Twi!” Rainbow chuckled, “Spike’s like, what, seventeen?”

“What the-” Twilight gaped, “No! He turns fifteen in two months!”

“Oh, really?” Rainbow blinked, “Well, whatever. Fifteen, seventeen…”

“He’s still fourteen!”

“The point is, I’m sure he can take care of himself for an evening. He probably went straight to bed and hasn’t even woken up, yet,” the pegasus shrugged, “Yeesh, you’re such an overprotective mother.”

“I like being overprotective!” Twilight stood up, “Oh, I’ve been letting so many of my responsibilities slip out from under me… First I fail in my friendship duties, and now I forgot about Spike!”

“I’m sure it’s not all that bad,” Rainbow Dash began pushing the cloud towards the pond, so Twilight flew alongside her to help.

“Are you kidding me? You were all at each other’s throats last night, and I didn’t even do anything!” the Princess frowned, “Worse, I lost my temper with Trixie and made Starlight angry again!”

“You had a right to be angry,” Rainbow assured her, “They really should have let you know what they were doing first.”

“Maybe so, but I overreacted,” Twilight tsked, “Then you and Rarity started saying those hurtful things to Spike…”

“Well, they’re true!” Rainbow scowled, “I mean, could you imagine Equestria being run by a non-Princess? Or even a non-pony? Actually imagine it.”

Twilight shuddered at the idea. Sure, the individual city-states worked well with elections of mayors or governors, with regular ponies in charge. She even found the idea of Spike leading his own city-state one day highly enjoyable, if improbable. Overall, though, she could not imagine all those city-states adjusting well to the idea of a non-pony governing the whole land. Even a regular pony would be a disaster, for their lifespans were not nearly long enough to ensure stability. The reason Equestria prospered was because it was under Celestia’s guidance for so many centuries. An immortal ruler had the additional benefit that the leader’s mind did not addle or dull with age.

“I see your point, but you didn’t have to tell him like that.”

“Hey, I forgot who I was talking to for a moment, okay?” Rainbow sighed, “I was worked up over every pony else turning on Rarity. I mean, what the hay? All she did was defend your title as Princess.”

“It was the way she said it, but…” Twilight sighed again, “I guess you two were only trying to tell the truth. Applejack and the others were being a little aggressive, I suppose…”

“Exactly!” Rainbow laughed as the cloud was in position. She began peppering it with well-placed bucks, getting it to the perfect level of gray. “Spike’s practically a stallion, or the dragon equivalent of one.”

“He’s still a baby by dragon standards…” Twilight pointed out. Rainbow Dash chose to ignore the disparity between pony aging and dragon aging.

“The point is, he’s been around long enough and developed enough, like, mentally and emotionally,” the pegasus flew back and admired her work, nodding in satisfaction, “He can handle the truth.”

“Hearing Applejack and the others say it, though… it doesn’t sound fair,” the Princess mused, “Equestria is built on principles of fairness and tolerance, so how can I justify believing in Celestia’s teachings while also believing Spike won’t be treated fairly just because he’s a dragon?”

“I don’t know,” Rainbow shrugged.

“Maybe it’d help if I knew why you and Rarity support it,” Twilight followed Rainbow Dash as she flew back towards Ponyville, “You’re both kind, supportive, and intelligent mares; how can you support this paradox?”

“Uh…” Rainbow furrowed her brow, thinking, “Well, I guess because life isn’t fair?”

“Explain?”

“I had to work my flank off for years to become a Wonderbolt, and that’s just the beginning. Still, I earned it,” Rainbow explained, “For me to succeed, a dozen other pegasi had to lose. It’s not fair, but it ensures the Wonderbolts are the best, and it rewards those who put the effort in. Rarity agrees, but obviously he ideas are about fashion and business.”

“Is it necessary to call those who don’t make it ‘losers’ and ‘rabble’, though?” Twilight frowned, “I mean, they’re ponies who tried – some of whom gave it all they had.”

“Maybe a few put effort in,” Rainbow scoffed, “and I guess I feel sorry for them. Still, a lot of ponies don’t even try! Not like I did, and not like Rarity did. They don’t deserve it.”

Twilight thought that over. It made sense, but then again, she knew many ponies were held back by other obligations, lack of resources, and other life issues. Not every pony could find the time or afford to put as much effort into training as Rainbow Dash had, or the resources to build a business like Rarity had.

“What about Applejack?” Twilight asked, prompting Rainbow to stop and float in place.

“What about her?”

“Well, her family is always struggling, but she works harder than any of us.”

“She also hangs out with us a lot,” Rainbow scoffed, “She could use that time to, I don’t know, work a second job or something.”

“Rainbow, she already works most of the day…” Twilight frowned, “Ponies need time off. Besides, you hang out with us a lot! And I usually find you napping all over the place…”

“Yeah, well…” Rainbow’s eyes darted around, trying to hold onto her argument, “I earned it, okay? I worked hard, I deserve to play – or nap – hard!”

“Okay, okay!” Twilight said, quickly. What was it with some ponies getting so defensive about what they’d earned? A mental cursing ensued as the alicorn realized that’s exactly what she did the night before.

“Why did you have to use AJ as an example, anyway?” the pegasus groaned, continuing their flight back to Ponyville, “Fluttershy being poor would make sense, since her work doesn’t make money, and Pinkie Pie works a lot, but she spends all her money on making ponies feel better!”

Twilight found herself pondering that. Applejack’s whole family worked the farm, yet they struggled to get enough money together to keep it from falling apart. Pinkie Pie had to live with her employer, but that made sense considering she used her income on party supplies to help cheer others up. Fluttershy didn’t really make money, but somehow had a nice cottage and could afford to take care of her animal friends. Well, actually, considering how close the animals were to her, Twilight wouldn’t be surprised if they built her cabin and helped her make money in some way. Beekeeping, maybe?

“Twilight, did you fall asleep while flying?” Rainbow’s voice cut in.

“Huh, what?” Twilight shook her head.

“You shouldn’t sleep while flying,” Rainbow chuckled, then frowned, “Trust me.”

They said their goodbyes as their paths diverged: Twilight back to her castle, and Rainbow to her next set of clouds. Twilight braked moments before touching down on her balcony and let out a yelp as she nearly stumbled into her assistant. He was reclining in an armchair, reading a newspaper. He looked up at her in displeasure.

“And where have you been, young lady?” he asked in a dead-serious tone.

“Spike, did you move this armchair up here just to set up a joke?” the Princess asked, not sure if she should be abashed at missing the curfew she set, or laughing at the drake’s antics.

“Do you know how creepy it is waking up to an empty castle?” Spike rolled the newspaper up and threw it on the chair as he got up to approach her, “I woke up early today because I was excited, and you know what I found?”

“No…”

“Nothing!” Spike threw his arms up, “I searched the whole castle and couldn’t find any pony!”

“Starlight’s not here?” Twilight frowned.

“After freaking out at her for a magic trick?” Spike crossed his arms, “I probably wouldn’t be, either.”

“I will apologize to her the next time I see her-”

“Guess what!” the aforementioned mare exclaimed as she burst through the doors, a glaring and sleepy Trixie in tow.

“St-Starlight?!” Twilight was stunned at the coincidence. It was even more shocking to see the unicorn grinning madly and prancing in place. The alicorn felt awful when she noticed the other unicorn stop scowling and shrink in fear at being near Twilight.

“Princess Luna invited me to study with her in Canterlot!” Starlight exclaimed.

“What?” Twilight and Spike asked in tandem.

“I didn’t know Luna taught anything,” Twilight smiled, momentarily forgetting how things went the night before, “What is she teaching you? Dream magic? Oracular studies? Monster slaying?”

“Politics!” Starlight squeaked, still grinning.

“…Politics?” Twilight deadpanned. She liked studying as much as the next pony, but how the hay was that more exciting than the other subjects?

“All I ever read growing up were abridged versions of political theories,” Starlight explained, her voice rushed with excitement, “Now I have a chance to really study it!”

“I’m just surprised…” the Princess said, slowly, “You seemed disinterested in the antiques Sunburst and I went through, and you’ve always seemed much more interested in magic…”

“History kinda bores me,” Starlight shrugged, sheepishly, “but politics was my first major attempt at study, remember?”

“How could I forget…” Twilight murmured.

“Well, this time I’ll learn how to do it right!” Starlight pranced in place, “Maybe I can convince enough ponies – and non-ponies, of course – to join me in starting my own city-state! Everyone can see my ideas in practice, without mind control, and will finally see the merit in them!”

“If you say so…” Twilight said, then sighed, “Look, Starlight… I wanted to apologize to you and Trixie about me freaking out last night.”

“Water under the bridge, right Trixie?” Starlight said, gleefully.

“Right…” the magician avoided looking at the alicorn, still clearly hurt.

“We leave next Friday!” Starlight said, “Trixie’s coming with me as a guest! Spike, you can come too, if you’d like; Princess Luna was interested in taking on more students.”

“Really?” the dragon asked, about to turn the offer down. Study politics? Sure, he had fun bouncing ideas back and forth with Starlight, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to-

“Oh, he can’t go,” Twilight said, dismissively.

“Excuse me?” the dragon asked, narrowing his eyes at his guardian.

“You’re too young to go off to Canterlot all alone!” Twilight explained, “It’s practically on another continent!”

“Twilight, it’s only a day or so by train!” Starlight laughed, “Besides, didn’t you go to study in Canterlot when you were younger than Spike? It should be his decision.”

“But…” the alicorn shifted, “I know I’ve been pretty short with both of you this last week, and you probably want some time away from me, but… this castle is so empty without any pony else. I don’t think I’ve ever spent a night alone.”

“Really?” Starlight tilted her head. Thinking on it, if Twilight began living in the Canterlot dorms after hatching Spike, then she would have always had Spike by her side as soon as her parents weren’t. Also, she likely had roommates at some point, too. “You’ll, uh… you’ll have Owlowiscious to keep you company.”

Twilight gave a flat stare at her former student.

“If it’d bother you that much,” the dragon sighed, “I guess I really don’t want to study there, anyway.”

“Oh,” Starlight’s ears drooped, “Y-you don’t want to study politics?”

“It was fun passing ideas back and forth, but I don’t know… actual study is pretty boring…” Spike shrugged.

Twilight felt a little crestfallen. She could tell he wasn’t interested in studying politics, but at the same time it was clear a large part of him not going hinged on how it would affect her. With a deep breath, she stood regally.

“I think you should go, Spike,” she declared.

“You just said-” the dragon began.

“I was wrong,” Twilight stated, “You have a right to a proper education, one I’ve denied you for too long. Studying under Celestia taught me so much, Spike. Maybe Luna can teach you a subject that interests you, and if she can’t, you could explore apprenticeships in Canterlot. You’re young, Spike; you have your whole life ahead of you! Do you really want to be my assistant forever, without ever having tried something new?”

Spike felt himself tearing up at the sentiment. He could tell by Twilight’s cracking voice that this was incredibly painful for her, and the fact she was willing to let him go just to give him new opportunities… Any frustration he still had towards her eroded and he rushed forward to embrace her.

“I-I’m scared to leave…” he confessed.

“Don’t be,” Twilight returned the embrace, “Princess Luna and Celestia are like family. Starlight will be there, and like she said, it’s only a day away by train.”

“I guess it won’t be so bad…” Spike nodded, steadying himself, “I mean, Apple Bloom, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle will be there also, at least for a little bit.”

“What?” this time Starlight and Twilight asked in unison.

“Princess Celestia summoned them to Canterlot to help with some Cutie Mark problem,” Spike chuckled, “I think Big Mac is going as their chaperone.”

“The mares of Canterlot better watch out with two studs heading their way,” Starlight nudged her female companions. They raised eyebrows at her.

“Who’s the other stud?” Spike asked, “I mean, Big Mac’s pretty obvious…”

“You,” Starlight deadpanned, “It was you, Spike. I was paying you a compliment.”

“Oh,” Spike’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“Anyway…” Twilight narrowed her eyes at her assistant and former student, wondering what was happening there, “…I guess this means we only have less than a week until you two move out.”

“That doesn’t seem like a lot of time,” Spike frowned, already regretting his decision until Twilight wrapped a wing around him.

“Never fear, Spike!” she smiled, “When have I ever let you leave my side unprepared?”

The alicorn enjoyed embracing her charge and she wished the sensation would last forever. There was no greater sensation, truly, than the love between guardian and ward, be it by blood or not. Eventually, though, she had to release him. Looking at the excitement now shared by Starlight and Spike, Twilight felt genuine happiness, but it fell apart when she saw Trixie’s sulking. Twilight felt herself charged with a new purpose.

“Will you three help me with something today?” she asked, drawing all three’s attentions.

“Sure, Twilight,” Starlight said.

“I want you to gather our friends here: Fluttershy, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Rarity, Pinkie Pie, and Discord,” the Princess instructed, “It’s time I resolved our friendship problems. Can you bring them here to the castle? We’ll meet up in the Map Room.”

“Alright,” Starlight nodded.

“If you say so, Twi,” Spike sighed, not entirely enthusiastic about seeing Rarity or Rainbow Dash again.

“As you wish, Princess,” Trixie murmured, avoiding eye contact with a curtsy that made the alicorn’s heart sink.

“Then I’ll hopefully see you all soon,” she gave her most encouraging smile before they departed.

Now all she had to do was wait.


…


“You seem very happy this morning,” Celestia noted as she served her sister pancakes. She had made some for Flim and Flam, but the lack of sleep from the day before had driven to sleep in. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally found a coltfriend.”

“Coming from you, dear sister, that is quite rich,” Luna snapped back with a smirk and both sisters laughed. The laughter steadily trickled into strained smiles at the thought of how single they were, so Luna changed the topic. “Actually, my change in attitude is because I have finally found myself a student to teach.”

“A student?” Celestia’s eyes widened as she nearly dropped her own fork, “Why Luna, that’s wonderful! What are you going to teach them? Astronomy? Old Ponish? All the cheat codes for Super Pony Kart?”

“Hmm, I might actually work some of those lessons in…” Luna smirked, “The main area of focus, however, will be the political sciences.”

“Really?” Celestia pursed her lips, “I was not aware any pony was still interested in the subject. Who, may I ask, is the student?”

“Starlight Glimmer,” Luna said with a smile, though it faded at the worry on her sister’s face, “You do not approve?”

“N-no, that’s not it!” Celestia said quickly, “It is simply that, well, she was something of a radical, and I know you have an interest in… radicals.”

“Says the mare with an interest in bad boys…” Luna rolled her eyes.

“That was over a thousand years ago!” Celestia blushed, “B-besides, that’s not the point.”

“Starlight’s views are different, yes,” Luna went on, “Indeed, she suggests things not even the most liberal of the pony-states has suggested, but I believe some of them have merit. I feel I can learn as much from her as she can learn from me.”

“Then it’s not much teaching, is it?” the other Princess pointed out.

“Perhaps not,” the darker of the alicorns shrugged, “but it will be nice to have a study partner, if nothing else. After all, haven’t you been teaching your two most recent students with a hooves-off approach?”

“Flim and Flam?” Celestia blinked, “I gave them a test to gauge where they stand, ethically. Now I’ve built a lesson plan to mold them into proper business-ponies. Once they graduate, they shall set off to bring the other business-ponies in Equestria to my standards.”

“Very ambitious,” Luna said, “I have seen in Starlight’s dreams, sometimes, that she wishes to form her own city-state. I imagine once we have finished our education, she will pursue it.”

“It won’t be like Our Town, will it?”

“No,” Luna laughed, richly, “I have seen her vision. It is one of the utmost harmony and egalitarianism, one that you would find truly enjoyable. The problem is that she does not know how to make it a reality, especially with her current reputation. I intend to help her, and I trust that she has learned her lesson about forcing ponies into her regime. I promise, sister, it will be entirely voluntary.”

“Well… alright,” Celestia smiled, “I trust you. I am also very, very proud of you.”

Luna felt her heart swell at that and it took all her self-control to maintain her composure. Fortunately, she remembered a detail that had escaped her.

“Oh yes, and she is probably going to bring along one or two friends,” she added, “I am not sure they will join me for study, or explore Canterlot, but I figured Starlight could use the company.”

“An excellent decision,” Celestia agreed, “My, between Starlight and her friends, Flim and Flam, and now the Cutie Mark Crusaders, the castle will be livelier than it has been in centuries.”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders are coming?” Luna perked up at the thought, having enjoyed her limited encounters with the girls.

“Yes,” the older Princess nodded, her celestial mane drifting with the motion, “I require their assistance in determining what exactly Flim and Flam’s special talents are. Perhaps I can break their unethical behavior easier if they realize they don’t need it.” Then Celestia smirked and added, “And I encouraged them to bring along Big Macintosh as their chaperone.”

“W-what?!” Luna blushed, then coughed into her hoof, smoothing her features, “I mean… so?”

“Not interested?” Celestia pretended to pout, “A shame. I heard you rather enjoyed that carnival – at least, that’s all you were talking about for a few weeks.”

“I-it was just a silly date,” Luna said, then allowed herself a tender smile, “S-still, it might be nice to see him again.” Deciding to return the mischief, Luna asked, “What about Flam?”

“…What about Flam?” Celestia asked, neutrally, after a moment’s hesitation.

“I hear that he is quite charming,” Luna went on, concealing her smirk with extreme effort, “Perhaps, if you are so concerned for my love life, I should ask him to court me?”

Celestia stared flatly at her sister.

“You looked into my dreams again, didn’t you?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Luna seemed offended, then smiled, “I overheard them as I was passing by.”

“Unbelievable!” Celestia threw her hooves into the air, “Am I not allowed to indulge in harmless fantasy in my dreams? It is not as if I would pursue it!”

“Be at ease, Tia,” Luna giggled, “I am only teasing. In truth, perhaps you should pursue it. After his studies, of course; it would not be proper for a mentor to court their students, after all.”

“It’s just a school-filly crush,” Celestia murmured, “Enough about romantic gossip, sister; I just realized I failed to start drafting those changes with you!”

“I believe those should wait until we’ve finished our current studies,” Luna suggested, “If you have ethical business-ponies working, and I have instructed myself and Starlight in the finer points of political science, then we can truly amend the law in a wondrous way, don’t you think?”

“I suppose that makes sense, yes,” Celestia nodded, “Still, I’ve put it off a long time…”

“Tia, it has been over a thousand years,” Luna laughed, “What is one more?”

“I suppose you’re right,” Celestia smiled, tenuously.

“Breakfast was delicious, sister,” Luna yawned, “If you will forgive me, I think I shall retire.”

Celestia inclined her head in approval and watched as her sister walked away to enjoy a well-deserved rest. Alone, she reclined and thought about what to do for the weekend once her obligations were finished…


…


“Alright, I think that’s all of us…” Spike noted, running down a mental checklist as he counted out the ponies before him, “Rarity, Applejack, Rainbow Dash, Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy, Starlight Glimmer, Trixie, and…”

The dragon scowled.

“Where’s Discord?” he asked.

“Oh, he needed some time to recuperate,” Fluttershy explained, “After returning to his family reunion, his brothers were so mean to him! The things they said… Now that the reunion’s over, he wanted some time to ‘get chaotic’.”

“Whatever could they have said to him that he would have found insulting?” Rarity wondered, “I’ve never seen him let anything get him down – other than seeing you feel down, of course.”

“They called him…” Fluttershy looked both ways before leaning in, conspiratorially. She whispered, “…normal.”

Everyone gathered stared at the yellow pegasus flatly, clearly disappointed in the answer.

“He promised he’d be along shortly, though,” Fluttershy added with a smile.

As if her saying so was an invitation, the draconequus popped out of thin air.

“Here I am!” he declared, smiling as if nothing at all was wrong, “Sorry I’m late; I needed to work off some steam, so I turned a portion of the Saddle Arabian desert into powdered sugar and went skiing.”

“You remembered to turn it back,” Fluttershy raised an eyebrow, “right, Discord?”

“Er…” the God of Chaos snapped his fingers, “…yes.”

“Alright then, that’s every pony,” Spike nodded, “plus Discord and me.”

He went to fetch Twilight and returned by her side. The Princess carried herself with the usual level of dignity she used in the presence of nobles and royalty. In the mystical, half-light gleaming off the crystal walls, her purple fur and plumage seemed to glow with an almost divine luminescence that temporarily awed her friends.

“I’ve gathered you all here for one simple purpose,” the alicorn declared with all the regality of a saint. Flashing her wings outward, Twilight gracefully bowed deeply to them. They let out a gasp, still lost in the illusion that they had witnessed an angel laid low, but quickly remembered it was only their friend. “…to apologize.”

“Whatever for?” Rarity asked, still trying to recover from the image. For an instant, Twilight had appeared… somehow more. The others were also shaking themselves out of the illusion. The Princesses were majesty incarnate, and sometimes it was a little much.

“I’ve been closed-minded, and divisive,” Twilight explained, horn still touching the floor, “I haven’t given your opinions the respect they deserve, and I’ve allowed you to drift further apart while I stood by, staying silent. As the Princess of Friendship, this has been a grave error on my part, but as your friend – it’s been unforgivable.”

“Q-quit bowing, already, Twilight,” Applejack drawled, shifting her hat down to cover her blushing face, “You ain’t gotta apologize. We’ve all been acting like a bunch of rattlers stuck in a pickle barrel.”

“Yeah, AJ’s right,” Rainbow rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, “We’re – I’m sorry, too.”

“Me too,” Fluttershy said, gently.

“Me three!” Pinkie Pie agreed.

“Ditto,” Applejack admitted.

“I have been acting uncouth these past few days,” Rarity confessed, “I do apologize – especially to you three! Oh, and my little Spikey-wikey, of course!”

The group turned their attention towards Starlight, Spike, Trixie, and Discord.

“Trixie already apologized,” the blue unicorn declared, haughtily. Then, with a friendly smile, “but she graciously accepts your apology, Princess Twilight.”

“I don’t recall having done anything wrong to any of you,” Discord crossed his arms. After thinking about it, he added, “lately.”

That left Spike and Starlight. Both felt their blood run cold. They both felt wronged and like they had nothing to apologize for, but they recognized not doing so would just start the whole mess up again. With that sour barb in their minds, they started seeing how their behavior and harsh words – while justified – might have been excessive. With a quick look of confirmation towards the other, they began their apologies.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting lately,” the dragon gave one of his servile bows, “I shouldn’t have lost my temper like that.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Starlight said, simply, but refused to bow. No one else had bowed apart from Twilight and Spike; why should she?

“Well, I might be new to the whole friendship thing, but I say this is cause to celebrate!” Discord grinned.

“Friendship Forgiveness Party!” Pinkie exclaimed, “Give me an hour and I’ll have everything set up in the park!”

“We’ll make sure this is the best week ever!” Rainbow Dash declared, receiving a group hug from Fluttershy and Applejack that the others quickly joined in on.

Twilight felt her heart soar at the prospect of the friendship crisis being resolved. Little did she know, this was only the beginning.
> 9
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


9


“I now call this meeting of the Conference of Non-Ponies,” Ember declared as she watched the assembled representatives settle down, “So… what now?”

“I move we change the name,” Pharynx said immediately, “It sounds stupid.”

Ember sighed, pinching the bridge of her snout, “Do I hear a second?”

“Aye!” the other representatives agreed.

“Great,” the Dragon Lord grumbled, “Any bright ideas, Pharynx?”

“The Swarm?” he suggested.

“Not all of us our part bug. Next!”

“How about…” the donkey representative, Negative Nelson, tapped his chin, “the National Association for the Advancement of Non-Ponies?”

“That sounds very professional,” Ember nodded, but her voice was laced with sarcasm, “except we aren’t a nation! Come on, guys! Put some effort into this!”

“The Non-Pony Alliance?”

“The Griffonstone Bloc?”

“The Colony?”

“Non-Ponies Matter Too?”

“Griffons and Friends?”

“The Hive?”

“The Society of Non-Ponies?”

“The Confederation of Griffons and Others?”

“Enough!” Ember snapped, running out of patience, “Pharynx, quit suggesting bug-related names, and Grigori, stop making everything about griffons! The other names capture our group, but they all sound so… boring!”

The Dragon Lord sighed, clawing at her face. Why couldn’t Thorax be there to come up with a name? He was creative, and he knew how to phrase things in such a way that no one would feel left out. Instead she had Pharynx.

“Prince Rutherford, you’ve been quiet,” Ember said after a moment of silence, “Do you have an idea?”

“Yaks use simple names for bodies politic,” Rutherford rumbled, “We not get bogged down so much. One title that work best for large groupings is horde.”

“The Horde, huh?” Pharynx rubbed his chin, “That sounds similar to a swarm. I could get behind that.”

“It also sounds like herd,” the zebra representative, Zashara smiled, “it is catchy and not absurd.”

“Us camels also travel in herds,” the camel representative, Desert Breeze, said, “It makes me feel comfortable, at least. What about the species here who don’t travel in herds, though?”

“The griffons have a strong warrior culture,” Grigori nodded, slowly, “Legends speak of fending off hordes of enemies, so there is certainly a militant element we can appreciate.”

“I think it sounds pretty cool,” Ember smiled, “Sounds like hoard, actually – like a treasure hoard – and dragons love those.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s copyrighted, though,” Negative Nelson pointed it out, “Isn’t it the name of that group in those comics?”

“Oh yeah…” Ember deflated, “Darn, that was a cool one, too.”

“If not acceptable, we use Old Yakish word,” Rutherford said, “Orduud.”

“The Ordu, eh?” Ember mulled it over, “Alright, same concept, just slightly different. All in favor of calling ourselves the Horde of the Non-Ponies? Or just the Orduud for short? Best of both worlds without any lawsuits.”

“Aye!” the representatives cried, unanimously.

“Great!” the Dragon Lord grinned, “Now, can we get to real business?”

“Fine,” Pharynx agreed, “I move we pledge military support for each other in the event of hostilities.”

“Agreed,” Grigori said, closely followed by Desert Breeze, “I concur.”

“Whoa, wait, military support?” Ember held her hands up, disarmingly, “There hasn’t been a serious conflict for a long time. We’re not going to war with anyone.”

“It’s purely defensive,” Pharynx declared, “It was my understanding this group was formed because the so-called Friendship Summit wasn’t so friendly. We should be willing to defend one another, anyway; that’s how you know you can trust your fellow broodlings.”

“Broodlings?” Ember asked in a deadpan.

“Well, the concept is the same,” Pharynx waved a hoof, dismissively, “We come from warrior lineages, and I figure the best way to build lasting friendship between our lands is through military cooperation. It’ll also keep the ponies from trying anything.”

“They might take it the wrong way…” Ember warned.

“Let them,” Negative Nelson snorted, “My entire region is surrounded by ponies and they come and go as they please, like they own the place. It’d be nice to know that, should they decide to take it, we’ve got friends to help us out.”

“I have few problems with Princess Celestia,” Zashara explained, “but I, too, fear takeover by Equestria.”

“The griffons have already promised aid to Cameloo,” Grigori boasted, “You know where we stand on the issue.”

“It would be impolitic of me not to return the pledge,” Desert Breeze decided.

“Yaks will defend new friends,” Rutherford agreed.

“Okay…” Ember sighed, “I suppose it’d give some of my more aggressive subjects something to do. We can train together, and stuff.”

“Oh man, I can’t wait!” Pharynx cackled, then frowned, “Oh, right… I don’t think my fellow changelings will honor the pact. They’ve all gotten so weak. I mean, they can defend themselves well enough – with my help – but if they were called on to actually fight, well…”

“The changelings are a neutral party, anyway,” Ember said, “We don’t expect you to be involved in a military alliance with either the ponies or us.”

Briefly the Dragon Lord wondered if thinking in terms of ‘us’ and ‘them’ was a good idea, but she had been the one to push for holding their own meeting and there wasn’t likely to be a return to the old one.

“We should extend an invitation to other non-pony areas,” Desert Breeze suggested, “The buffaloes, for example.”

“Perhaps the hippogriffs?” Grigori offered.

“They’re half-pony and very closely tied to Equestria,” Pharynx explained, “Extend the invitations to every non-pony and see who bites, but I wouldn’t bet on them joining a non-pony-exclusive military pact.”

“I doubt the breezies would be interested, either,” Negative Nelson mused, dryly.

“Alright, so we send out invitations to the other non-ponies,” Ember said. The others looked at her oddly, so she rolled her eyes and tried again, “All in favor of sending invitations out to non-ponies?”

“Aye!” the vote was unanimous.

“At some point,” Ember began with caution, “we should allow ourselves to be open to ponies. I mean, Princess Celestia was willing to accept us, even if the others weren’t; shouldn’t we offer them the same?”

“Ugh, fine,” Pharynx groaned, “All in favor of changing our name to just the Orduud and dropping the non-pony bit?”

“Aye,” the vote lacked its usual enthusiasm.

“And, on that note, I suggest we also send invitations to pony city-states, too,” the dragon added.

This time there was some contentious muttering.

“How would that even work?” Desert Breeze asked, “No pony city-state would turn on another.”

“Yeah, they’d have to understand they’re expected to help us with defense in the event of a war…” Pharynx agreed.

“No they don’t,” Ember smirked, “If we can let the changelings be on both sides, then we can let pony city-states, too. At most, all they have to agree to is neutrality.”

“Bah!” Grigori growled, then relented, “I suppose if it came out to war, having fewer enemies would be just as useful as having more allies.”

“All in favor?” Ember asked.

“Aye,” the others agreed.

“Alright,” Pharynx nodded, “now let’s talk details…”

The others began trading their military capabilities and how best to coordinate their forces in the event of conflict. Ember joined in, feeling almost free talking about her dragons’ natural affinity for combat, but at the same time she felt reservations tugging her heart down. She noticed Prince Rutherford was quiet, but his expression was unreadable. Was this what it had come to? Forming military pacts? She supposed there was no harm in it, though.

After all, it was only right friends defend each other.


…


Spike’s eyes fluttered open. Across from him, leaning back-to-back in deep sleep, were Applejack and Rainbow Dash, one with her hat covering her eyes, the other snoring like a buzz saw. He took in the others as he adjusted to the waking world. Discord was around his position, curled slightly with Fluttershy presumably near his head behind Spike. Trixie was just above him, mumbling in her sleep about being great and powerful. For a party that had started in the park, they had ended up passed out in Twilight’s castle after hours of games, snacks, and fun.

Trying to move to look behind him, Spike felt a pair of forelegs wrapped around him; in response to his movement, they dragged him into a tighter embrace. Spike blushed at the prospect of Rarity snuggling with him, but a drowsy voice near his ear killed that theory.

“Mmm…” Starlight mumbled, “Mr. Snuggles…”

The dragon blushed even more at the prospect of Starlight snuggling with him, the image of her in her assistant’s outfit coming unbidden to his mind. Panicking silently, he managed to slither out of her grip and back away. Looking at her, he felt sad for leaving; her face made a confused, pouting expression as her hooves pawed at the air where Spike had been a moment earlier. She sighed, rolled over and resumed deep sleep.

Looking around, Spike saw Fluttershy cuddling with Discord, the two looking as happy as could be. He also saw Pinkie Pie sleeping in the barrel of candy she had brought for the party, legs jutting out. It had been full, last Spike remembered, but he wasn’t surprised to see it empty with Pinkie sleeping in it… That only left Rarity and Twilight to be found. With nothing better to do in the meantime, he sought them out.

Within a few moments, he found the room they had sequestered themselves in and was about to announce his presence when he overheard them conversing.

“…her greedy hooves all over him!” Rarity was going on, indignantly, “The nerve!”

“I’d almost think you were jealous,” Twilight chuckled.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Twilight,” Rarity scoffed, “The age difference is too much of a problem, and he’s practically immortal, isn’t he? I’ll be… you know… long before he is. Plus, he’s more like family at this point.”

Spike cocked his head to the side. Who were they talking about?

“I don’t think dragons are immortal, per se…” the Princess smirked, startling Spike with the revelation they were discussing him, “I think you’re just jealous he’s been looking at Starlight more than you, lately.”

“Oh, puh-lease!” Rarity rolled her eyes, “Jealousy is so petty! It’s far beneath me.”

“That’s good to know,” Twilight’s grin became entirely mischievous now, “Then you won’t mind he’s joining her on an extended stay in Canterlot.”

“What?!” Rarity snorted, which almost caused Spike to guffaw if he hadn’t covered his snout in time, “W-well, whatever!” A moment later, after cooling her head and listening to Twilight giggle, Rarity asked, “Why are they going to Canterlot, anyway?”

“They’re going to study politics under Princess Luna,” Twilight explained, clearly proud, “To think, my former student is going to continue her education, and now my little Spike is training under a Princess, just like I was! I mean, I’m not sure he’ll stick to the politics, but Luna has a lot she can teach others. I’m sure she can offer some kind of curriculum that would get Spike motivated. I’m so proud of both of them!”

“Oh, that does sound divine!” Rarity giggled, “Spikey-wikey is certainly growing up! Still, I feel sort of sad that he’s leaving, too.”

“That’s right, Sweetie Belle will be going to Canterlot, too,” Twilight said, sympathetically, “When will she and the other Crusaders be leaving?”

“Tomorrow morning,” Rarity teared up, “Why is every pony – and dragon! – leaving me?!”

“Relax, Rarity,” Twilight snorted, levitating a box of tissues to the unicorn, “We had fun all day yesterday, and Spike will be here until next Friday. It’s only Sunday.”

Spike decided this was as good a time as any to reveal himself. Stepping into the light, he feigned tiredness.

“What are you two doing up so early?” he faked a yawn.

“Oh, Spike,” Twilight smirked at Rarity, who glared in reply while drying her eyes, “we were just talking about you, actually.”

“Kindly, I hope,” the dragon chuckled, coming closer. He stopped when he saw the two mares look at him oddly. “What’s wrong?”

“You’ve grown,” the unicorn declared, simply, “It’s not much, but I’d say you’ve grown at least an inch since last night.”

“One and two-fifths, by my estimate,” Twilight said after scrutinizing her charge and doing a walk-around.

“No pony likes a showoff, Twilight…” Rarity muttered.

“Really?!” Spike beamed as he rushed to check himself in the nearest reflective surface. He frowned, disappointed that – aside from appearing a hair thinner – he looked exactly the same. “Are you two messing with me?”

“No, you’ve definitely grown,” Twilight motioned him to stand next to her with her wing, “See? Just last night your eyes were about level with shoulders; now they’re about at my neck…”

“Huh,” Spike clenched and unclenched his claws, looking at his body again, “I thought getting taller would feel different. This is kind of disappointing.”

“I thought dragons grew in proportion to their hoard of goods,” Rarity wondered, reappraising the drake, “I will have to create an entirely new coat for you. Oh, and if you keep growing while in Canterlot, I’ll have to have Sassy Saddles keep you well-dressed. No friend of mine will be without fine attire while in Canterlot!”

“I’ve been doing some more research on dragons,” Twilight said, producing a notepad and quill much to Spike’s chagrin, “I always thought the idea that dragons’ growth was limited strictly to treasure hoards was somewhat lacking. After all, if that were the case, Spike would have grown proportionately with every item he acquired, be it a snack or present, yet he’s stayed the same size for nearly every birthday for the last three years! Except the, uh… incident.”

“Don’t remind me…” the dragon muttered, embarrassed.

“Additionally, some of the dragons we met in the Dragon Lands were the same size on several occasions, despite acquiring more goods,” Twilight explained, “I theorize the growth of dragons isn’t the acquisition of treasure, or even avarice, but rather some kind of magic in their biology that’s strongest when they take things!”

“But Spike hasn’t taken anything,” Rarity pointed out, then looked at the dragon in suspicion, “Have you?”

“No!” Spike said, “Trust me, I learned my lesson.”

“Why in Equestria would he grow, then?”

“I have a theory for that, too,” Twilight snorted as she laughed at her own perceived brilliance, “I suspect dragons must grow naturally as well as with their magic, just at an incredibly slow rate. It’s also possible that having greater control over their lives and more freedom is a form of treasure they can hoard and thus feel the same sensation with.”

After a moment, Twilight smiled, sheepishly.

“So, uh… I guess I could responsible for stunting your growth,” she laughed, nervously, “Sorry, Spike.”

“Well, better late than never, right?” the dragon laughed, good-naturedly, “Perfect timing, too. The Cutie Mark Crusaders have been getting a little too cocky with their height advantage on me.”

“Trying to impress my sister now, too?” Rarity asked with a warning edge in her voice, “Is Starlight not enough?”

“I’m surprised you care,” Spike admitted without malice, “I kinda got the impression you weren’t interested.”

“Yes, well, I’m concerned about my sister,” Rarity huffed.

“I doubt Starlight’s interested, either,” Spike chuckled, “Don’t worry, Rarity. When have I ever not been a gentledrake?”

“I suppose I am being a little foolish,” the unicorn allowed herself to unwind, “Goodness, what am I thinking? You? Do anything untoward my sister? It’s simply unimaginable, truly. Please, forgive me.”

“Oh, it’s just you being protective, Rarity,” the dragon said, “It’s one of your best qualities.”

“I see you’ve still got some charm left for after all,” Twilight giggled, “Now let’s go wake the others. It’s Sunday, so we should probably make the most of it.”

“Wonderful idea, darling,” Rarity smiled, “The weather looked splendid from your balcony – just on the right sight of chilly.”

“Sounds like fun,” Spike beamed.

The three set about waking the others and they prepared for the coming day. Discord was kind enough to produce tea for the waiting ponies and dragon while they waited for the rounds of showering to be done. Only Fluttershy seemed to enjoy the bizarre blends he had created, though, Rarity nearly panicking after his green tea turned her tongue green.

“You should try the ginseng,” Fluttershy recommended, “The teabags actually sing! Isn’t that wonderful?”

“Splendid…” Rarity sighed as she looked at her tongue in the mirror, “I can make this work, I suppose…”

“I always thought purple and green go together nicely,” Spike chuckled admiring his own green tongue, “but I might be a little biased.”

Applejack exited the bathroom, spending almost as little time as Rainbow Dash had and looking no less clean. She had graciously offered to go last, and now that she had finished, it was time for them to enjoy the day. After hanging out together most of the day before, everyone decided to spend the Sunday split into smaller gatherings.

“I was thinking of spending some time with Maud today,” Starlight said, “I’ve been a little preoccupied, lately, and I haven’t seen her in a while.”

“That sounds great!” Pinkie bounced closer to Starlight, “We can go together! She’ll be super-duper excited to see us!”

“I think we should spend some time with our sisters,” Applejack nodded at Rarity and Rainbow Dash, “Celestia alone knows how long they’ll be in Canterlot to help with the Cutie Mark problem. I say we spend as much time with them as they’re comfortable with before tomorrow.”

“I couldn’t agree more!” Rarity stated, firmly, “Besides, it has been too long since we’ve gone on one of our famous nature outings.”

“More like infamous,” Rainbow snorted, “You always freak out at getting your hooves dirty, let alone when the usual natural disaster happens.”

“Yeah, you three have horrible luck with camping from what I hear,” Spike chuckled, then tapped his chin, “Actually, that sounds pretty fun. Can I join you?”

“I don’t see why not,” Applejack smiled.

“Hey, Twi, did you wanna tag along, too?” Rainbow asked, “You guys are like sisters. Sort of.”

“I was actually hoping to spend some time with Trixie today,” the Princess said, “if she wanted to.”

“With me?” the unicorn’s eyes widened, “I-I mean, with Trixie? She supposes she has nothing better to do, today, and how is she to deny a date with a Princess?”

A moment of silence passed before the magician realized how that sounded.

“As in a lunch date, not a…” she began, then shook her head, “What Trixie meant to say is, yes; we should hang out today.”

“Great,” Twilight smiled. She wouldn’t hold a slip of the tongue against the magician; after all, hadn’t she said something similarly suggestive Freeday night?

“I suppose that just leaves the two of us, Fluttershy,” Discord smiled warmly at the pegasus, “I hope you’re not too disappointed.”

“Don’t be silly, Discord!” Fluttershy giggled, fluttering her wings briefly, “We haven’t had a proper tea party since you got back from your reunion. I’d love to hear all about it!”

So the ponies, dragon, and draconequus departed in their little clusters, eager to make the most out of the day and continue mending their recent wounds. There were some regrets among them, deep-rooted disagreements and personal slights – all of which should have been addressed and discussed – but this was a happy occasion and they needed to work past it. Sometimes that meant ignoring a problem, burying it, and hoping it would die. ‘Let bygones be bygones,’ so they said.

But some scars ran deeper than they would have liked to admit…


…


Celestia and Luna were enjoying another of their brief breakfasts before they had to part ways. Despite tiredness, Luna was extremely happy for she had received a list of guests the night before in Starlight’s dreams and now shared them with Celestia.

“It will be a pleasure to see Spike once more,” Celestia smiled, brightly, “It is silly of me, but I consider him something like a…”

“Grandson?” Luna suggested.

“Oh, heavens no!” Celestia blanched, “I’m not that old!”

The two alicorns stared at one another tersely before bursting into laughter.

“A pity he does not seem interested in learning politics, however,” Luna sighed, “Starlight and I discussed other topics. I heard he expressed interest in the old ways of chivalry…”

“You are not considering teaching him archaic customs and ways of combat, are you?” Celestia frowned.

“I don’t see why I should not,” Luna said, “He has displayed bravery and dedication, loyalty, honor, and a thousand other noble traits. If you are concerned for his safety, I shall remind you that he has survived countless battles, and will likely be dragged into many more before there is peace. He is a thrice-decorated hero in the Crystal Empire! Frankly, he should have been trained in self-defense long before now.”

“You make a good point, sister,” the older of the two sighed in defeat, “I suppose I’m just in denial that he’s growing up. After a thousand years, it still hurts to see those I care about age so quickly…”

Luna kept her peace. In truth, she wanted to point out that at least Celestia had had the chance to lose those she had gotten to know. Luna had only outlived one particularly close friend; hundreds of others perished while she was banished. Luna bit her tongue, though, for she knew Celestia still grieved over watching the slow decay of the bodies and minds of those she cared for. Luna could sympathize, for she could not imagine witnessing that one close friend as a thousand.

“Spike is a dragon,” she said instead, “he shall live a long time, yet.”

Celestia only smiled before changing to a cheerier topic.

“What of Trixie?” she asked.

“I was wondering that, myself,” Luna said, “From what Starlight has told me, she is not particularly studious, but I have a hunch with a surname like Lulamoon, we’ll find something to bond over.”

“Perhaps you should try introducing her magic relevant to her interests,” Celestia offered.

“She is a magician…” Luna mused, “I haven’t bothered with it in some time, but I was very good at illusion magic.”

“I remember when you pulled that prank on Starswirl!” Celestia laughed in earnest, Luna joining in, “I can still see the look on his face when you tricked him into thinking that coleslaw was pudding!”

They laughed for a moment longer before letting it peter out, sighing contentedly.

“I heard that you began delegating some of your duties for Sunday to the nobility,” Luna noted, “Trying to get some free time?”

“Every pony deserves free time; don’t you think?” Celestia replied, “Besides, I was inspired be you – always talking about letting non-royalty have more responsibility.”

“I’m flattered,” the Princess of the Night admitted, “So… what were you planning for your day off?”

“I was going to try and show Flim and Flam some of the sights of Canterlot,” Celestia explained, “I haven’t been to the cinema in… well, I’m not sure I’ve ever been to the cinema.”

“That sounds quite nice, actually,” Luna confessed, “I don’t suppose you are taking my advice in regards to Flam?”

“Would you take that advice if I gave it to you about Big Macintosh?” Celestia smirked.

“Good point,” Luna conceded, “Tomorrow their studies begin in earnest, yes?”

“That is correct,” Celestia nodded, “They will learn a great many things about ethics, but for today, the lesson shall be one of camaraderie and fun. Perhaps making friends will help them realize they don’t need to rely on scams to make a profit. The Cutie Mark Crusaders will be here late tomorrow, so they can help us come Tuesday.”

“It sounds like it will be a very productive week,” the Princess of the Night yawned, “Excuse me, sister, but I will retire now.”

“Sweet dreams,” the Princess of the Day wished as she watched her sister depart.

In her mind, the ancient alicorn began to contemplate the wisdom of having several former villains and children running around the castle, but she could just have Gutsy Gust keep tabs on their behavior and appoint other chaperones.

There was nothing to worry about.
> 10
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


10


Apple Bloom took a deep breath to steady herself, taking in the sights and smells of a crisp autumn morning. She loved the fall season – the oranges and reds of the trees, the crispy cool climate, the Fall Harvest… it all reminded her of apples, and apples were definitely a comfort to her. They were a symbol of their family, and a symbol of home.

Taking in that breath, she felt a bittersweet sensation that soon home would be behind her, even if it was only temporary. It was also somewhat difficult to breathe properly with the massive, overburdened saddlebags she was carrying.

“I’m so excited!” Scootaloo jumped in the air, her wings fluttering futilely in an effort to keep her afloat, “Can you believe this? A royal job!”

“I wasn’t expecting to work for our fall break,” Sweetie Belle giggled, “but I’m not complaining.”

“It was nice of Ms. Cheerilee to move fall break so we wouldn’t miss too much class,” the pegasus noted. She saw Apple Bloom staring back in the direction of Sweet Apple Acres. “Homesick already, Apple Bloom?”

“What?” the farm filly drawled before snapping back into reality, “I guess so. I’ve never been away from my family or my home for more than a week. We don’t know how long we’ll be in Canterlot helping Princess Celestia.”

“It’s not so bad, moving around,” Sweetie Belle said, “Mom and dad told me moving in with Rarity would help ‘broaden my horizons’. Think of it like an adventure!”

“My family’s pretty sedentary, besides my sister going off to save the world,” Apple Bloom snorted, “I’m just not used to it, is all. How about you, Scootaloo? Are you worried about leaving home, too?”

“Home?” the orange filly blinked, as if not recognizing the word for an instant. She recovered quickly, smiling. “My home is wherever my friends are.”

“Tacky~!” Sweetie Belle sing-songed, causing her friends to laugh. As it died down, Scootaloo nudged Sweetie Belle.

“Don’t look now, but here comes your drakefriend,” the pegasus whispered.

“It was one dance!” Sweetie Belle scowled, then put on a smile for the approaching dragon.

“I’m here to see you off,” Spike bowed, “just like I promised.”

“Every bit the gentledrake,” Apple Bloom curtsied in return, the gesture so painstakingly executed that her friends raised eyebrows in curiosity. When the farm filly had risen, she continued, “You didn’t have to come, you know. We spent all day yesterday together, and it got pretty late last night, what with the ghost stories.”

“Aw, poor Spike,” Sweetie Belle gasped in realization, “you didn’t have any pony to sleep next to last night!”

“I had my own tent,” Spike chuckled, “It was pretty roomy, actually.”

“What Sweetie Belle means is you didn’t have any pony there to help you feel safe,” Scootaloo explained, “Weren’t you scared by the stories?”

“Of course I was scared!” Spike exclaimed, looking over his shoulder at the gathering of older ponies before whispering, “I still can’t get that one about the clown out of my head!”

“How in Equestria did you get to sleep last night, then?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Years of practice,” the dragon smirked, “Well, the train will be here soon and your sisters wanna say goodbye, so I’ll quit wasting time.”

“Talking with you is never a waste of time, Spike,” Apple Bloom gave a friendly smile, her words causing the other fillies to exchange knowing smirks, “Thanks for coming to see us off; have a great week!”

“Thanks, you too!” the dragon said, moving back and making way for Rarity, Rainbow Dash, and Applejack.

“Alright, kiddo,” Applejack double-checked the large saddlebags, “All your snacks are in order, you got a decent amount of bits – bring us back a souvenir if you can – emergency clothes, sun lotion, fire-proof boots…”

“Why do I need half this stuff?” Apple Bloom grunted under the weight of the bags, “We’re probably not even staying the whole week!”

“An excellent question,” Rarity looked at the other two, before inhaling sharply, “Twilight spoke to me about the perks of studying under a Princess yesterday morn, and I in-turn explained it to Applejack and Rainbow Dash.”

“Okay…” Sweetie Belle tilted her head, “Except we aren’t studying – we’re helping with a problem.”

“From what I’ve heard, Princess Luna is taking on her own students,” Rainbow explained, “and she’s open to taking a few more…”

“Whoa, seriously?!” Scootaloo grinned at the idea, then frowned, “Wait, how much is tuition?”

“What the hay is tuition?” Rainbow knitted her brow at the question.

“Let’s pretend it isn’t an issue, alright?” Applejack said, “The point is, if Princess Celestia or Luna offer you a chance to study with them, we want you to know you can take it without worrying about us.”

“I, uh, made sure it was okay with your parents, Scootaloo,” Rainbow said with a knowing inflection, “They assured me they’d pay for any expenses.”

“You…” the pegasus filly started, then trailed off, “They don’t have to do that.”

“Shoot, no family would want their fillies to miss out on a chance to study under one of the Princesses!” Applejack said, “But, uh… if you don’t want to, if they offer just say no.”

“It’s just that we don’t want you to pass up the opportunity to study with them just because you’re worried about what we’d say,” Rarity smiled, “or how much it would cost.”

“You have our – and your parents’ – full support,” Rainbow Dash said with finality.

“We’ll have to think about it,” Apple Bloom frowned.

“I think it’d be great,” Sweetie Belle said.

“Me too!” Scootaloo pranced in place, wings fluttering, “Well, if they even offer.”

“Yeah, they probably won’t,” Apple Bloom laughed nervously.

Applejack frowned as she caught that anxious undertone in her sister’s voice. She had been panicked about the news Apple Bloom was leaving since she heard it, but only now did it sink in that this was the first time Apple Bloom would be away from home for an extended period of time without family. Applejack remembered her own trepidation whenever she left Ponyville and the sanctum of Sweet Apple Acres, but after Nightmare Moon, defeating villains seemed more important than her fears of leaving home. The thought of returning, one day, kept that fear from ever surfacing; she knew she’d see the farm again, partly because she had left before and come back.

Apple bloom didn’t have that, yet.

“Listen, sugar cube,” the peach-tone pony said, firmly, “you’ll see home again, so in the meantime, try and see the world. You always wanted to see where Zecora’s from, right?”

“Right…” Apple Bloom managed an abashed smile.

“Well, it’s a lot farther from here than Canterlot is,” the older of the two smirked.

“Think of this like a training exercise,” Rainbow explained to Scootaloo, though her words were for Apple Bloom, “You start by going somewhere not too far away, then work your way up. Before you know it, you’re in Griffonstone! Or, in your case Apple Bloom, wherever Zecora is from.”

“Why can’t Cheerilee keep being our teacher?” Apple Bloom asked.

“She can be your teacher,” Applejack assured her, “you don’t have to say yes just because they offer.”

“And there are a great many things the Princesses can teach you that Cheerilee simply cannot,” Rarity explained, “but I shan’t get your hopes up. After all, there’s no guarantee they’ll make the offer.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Rainbow Dash sighed, “Still, if they do offer, then we don’t want you to pass it up because of what we think. Or, uh, what your parents think.”

“Gee willikers, here comes the train!” Applejack blanched, “Let’s do a quick run through the checklist to-”

“Applejack…” her brother’s deep voice warned as he approached, carrying additional saddlebags.

“Sorry, Big Mac,” the farmer gave a sheepish smile, “I’m sure you can handle it from here.”

“Get ready, girls,” the eldest of the Apple siblings said as the train pulled up.

The fillies said their goodbyes as their older sisters watched them board the train, teary-eyed. Big Mac traded a few parting words with Spike, telling him they’d set up a Guy’s Night schedule when the dragon finally arrived in Canterlot. As the train started to depart, the send-off party stepped back from the tracks and waved their final goodbyes to their departing friends and family, missing them before they had even left their sight.

“I’m surprised the others didn’t show up,” Applejack noted, “I know it’s a Monday morning, and all, but it ain’t like them to just disappear.”

As if to prove her point, Fluttershy sped in, out-of-breath and looking ready to cry as she saw the smoke of the train disappearing over the horizon.

“Oh no!” she huffed between pants, “I missed it! Oh, and I had Discord help me prepare some trail mix for them, too…”

“Don’t worry, Flutters,” Rainbow Dash put a comforting wing around her friends’ shoulders, “The girls were so excited to get going they barely noticed we were here.”

“Still, it was very rude of me not to be here,” the yellow pegasus sighed in resignation, “Where are Twilight, Pinkie Pie, and Starlight?”

“Well, Twilight wouldn’t oversleep…” Spike stroked his chin in thought, “She must be pretty busy if she missed this, though.”

“I imagine Pinkie Pie kept Starlight up pretty late while visiting Maud,” Rainbow chuckled, “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were still sleeping off a sugar high.”

“Ugh, one was enough for this month,” Rarity shook her head, “I couldn’t imagine having to deal with two late-night sugar binges in a row! I must find out how Pinkie Pie can manage it and maintain that figure…”

After sharing a laugh, the friends left the station to return to their usual weekly duties. The mares stuck together for as long as possible while Spike departed straight back to the castle.

“You really think the Princesses will offer them lessons?” Applejack asked.

“Sweetie Belle, perhaps,” Rarity noted, sadly, causing the farmer and cyan pegasus to round on her with inquisitive glares, “I’m sorry, but I can’t recall a single student the Princesses have had that wasn’t a unicorn.”

“She has a point,” Fluttershy said, “Even Starlight and Trixie are unicorns…”

“There are still plenty of promising careers in Canterlot,” Rarity said, quickly, “Admittedly, most of the more glamorous ones are held by unicorns, but there are others held exclusively by pegasi and earth ponies!”

“Like?” Applejack drawled.

“Uh…” the unicorn looked around, “Royal Guard?”

“They’re too young to join the Royal Guard!” Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes, then smiled, “But Scootaloo would look pretty awesome in that armor.”

“That’s not fair,” the farmer shook her head in disgust, “Apple Bloom is an intelligent and caring pony, and she can’t find a successful career in Canterlot or be trained by the Princesses?”

“She can be successful,” Rarity said, quickly, “Think of all the greatest business-ponies in Equestria! Almost all of them are earth ponies.”

“And swindlers!” Applejack cringed, “You really want Apple Bloom to be like Filthy Rich, or Gladmane?”

“No pony said that,” Fluttershy shuddered at the thought of sweet Apple Bloom becoming anything like that particular stallion.

“Filthy Rich is hardly a swindler,” Rainbow laughed, “He got where he is by working hard and being the best in the business.”

“Oh, please,” Applejack muttered, “He might be an old business partner of the family, but that don’t change the fact he got where he is by strangling the life out of all the businesses in town.”

“My business is just fine, thank you very much,” the unicorn sniffed, “I think some pony is just jealous of Mr. Rich’s success.”

“Oh yeah?” Applejack glared at the unicorn in challenge, “Why in the hay would I be jealous of him? I have a family and friends that love me, a roof over my head, and three warm meals a day.”

“You’re also overworked and struggling to make ends meet, despite working your flank off every day!” Rainbow pointed out.

“Then that just shows Applejack was right and this is unfair,” Fluttershy noted, “Filthy Rich doesn’t do nearly as much as Applejack does, and he manages to set the prices for her family’s apple products in his favor. He’s getting rich off Applejack’s work while she struggles to keep the farm running.”

“Hey…” the farmer furrowed her brow, “you’re right! The prices are in Filthy’s favor!”

“Well, then that just shows you have no head for business!” Rarity snapped, “Honestly, your being poor has nothing to do with unfairness or Mr. Rich, but…”

She trailed off as she realized she had just called Applejack poor to her face. Looking back, she saw that even Rainbow was wincing. The two pegasi backed away from the earth pony standing defiantly, hat upon her head. Applejack inhaled slowly, then turned and walked away. The response was so underwhelming that the others only watched for a moment before galloping after her.

“Applejack, wait!” Rarity hurried after her, finding the long, quick strides of the earth mare more punishing than she was used to, “I didn’t mean it how it came out!”

“Oh yeah?” Applejack grunted, not slowing her pace.

“I only meant that you are, well… fiscally poor,” Rarity struggled to dig herself out of the hole she kept making, “B-but you are wealthy in the ways that matter, too.”

Applejack slowed a little at that, much to the unicorn’s relief, but then felt her heart drop when she listened to the farmer.

“It’s not the fact you called my family poor that bothers me; we are poor, at least compared to you, Rainbow Dash, and Twilight,” Applejack said, “It’s the fact you called me – excuse me – implied that my family was stupid, that our being poor is our own fault because we have ‘no head for business’. We agreed to those prices with Mr. Rich because it kept our products affordable and popular.”

“Th-then why were you outraged?” the unicorn blinked.

“Because Filthy Rich has been steadily marking up the prices,” Applejack explained, “but our prices have stayed the same because we knew it’d only make the products even more expensive and less popular. I’m only now realizing that Filthy Rich has no reason to keep increasing the prices, since we do the growing, the harvesting, the processing, and the packaging!”

“Sometimes the value of bits decreases, so he has to charge more…” Rarity said, weakly.

“Then why isn’t he paying us more to compensate?” Applejack demanded, “And he sets the darn prices, anyway! The only reason my bits don’t go as far as they used to is because Filthy Rich raises the prices on everything.”

“Well, the economy is a complicated creature…” Rarity tried to think of a way to explain it.

“Yeah, yeah,” Applejack kept walking, “Don’t waste your breath, Rarity; I’m just simple country rabble, remember? I’m poor because I’m too dumb to be otherwise.”

“I never said that!” the unicorn gasped, unable to follow her friend.

“Come on, AJ, you’re being unfair!” Rainbow yelled after the other mare.

“I think she has a point,” Fluttershy turned to leave, “Everything you said was just as insulting towards ponies like Pinkie Pie and myself, too. Just because we aren’t rich like you two…”

“We’re not rich,” Rainbow snorted, “Now, Celestia is rich.”

“When was the last time you worried about bills for your giant house in the sky?” Fluttershy asked, “The only reason I don’t have to is because I live off the land. Applejack works hard to run a farm, doing the fieldwork herself, goes to distant lands far away from her closest family and risks her life to save Equestria, and still manages to find time to spend with her friends. This past week you’ve called her rabble, said she had little reason to have a say in government, and now have called her whole family poor and, worse, that they deserve to be poor because they don’t understand business!”

“W-we didn’t say those things!” Rainbow Dash got angry, “I don’t remember saying those things! I would never say those things to a friend!”

Rarity looked less sure, but stayed silent.

“Well, that might not be how you said them, but that’s how we heard them,” Fluttershy said.

“Then your hearing is broken!” Rainbow snapped.

Fluttershy started walking away, but called back over her shoulder, “I’m surprised that every time one of us tries to explain why you’ve upset us, you blame us for being upset rather than yourselves for hurting our feelings.”

Rainbow fumed as she watched her oldest friend disappear in the crowd of ponies doing their daily runs. She and Rarity exchanged an odd look – a mixture of guilt, disappointment, frustration, and grief – before the unicorn went towards the Carousel Boutique. How did she keep managing to say the wrong things at the wrong time? It was very unlike her to be so tactless.

After a moment alone, Rainbow sighed and bolted into the air with a single, powerful flap of her wings. She couldn’t bog herself down with this drama; she had a job to get back to. There were more important things to worry about than some friendship in jeopardy.


…


Apple Bloom looked out the window, watching the countryside pass them by. On the benches near her were her two best friends and no pony else. They had managed to convince Big Mac to give them some privacy, though Apple Bloom had little idea why. She wasn’t feeling very talkative, and so far her friends had been nearly as silent, only trading whispers towards each other.

Apple Bloom frowned at the realization. Her best friends? Getting them away from witnesses? Whispering to each other behind her back? Uh-oh…

“So…” Sweetie Belle began in an overly-casual tone, “Do you like anybody?”

“What?” the earth filly did a double take at the suggestion, “No! Why would you girls think I liked any pony?”

“It doesn’t have to be any pony,” Scootaloo smirked, “It can be a griffon, or a donkey, or… a dragon.”

Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes, scowling. She saw where this was going, and it’d be a long train ride if they went there.

“I don’t like Spike,” she said, simply.

“Who said anything about Spike?” Sweetie Belle gave a look of mock surprise.

“Now that you mention it, though,” Scootaloo pretended as if she had to think it over on the spot, “you did seem pretty friendly with him back at the station…”

“Of course I was friendly,” Apple Bloom chose to look out the window. If her friends saw her face flushing in embarrassment, they’d misread it as a blush. “He’s our friend, ain’t he?”

“I’ve never seen you put so much effort into curtsying a friend before,” Sweetie Belle smirked and Apple Bloom could see it reflected in the window.

“H-he bowed, so I curtsied,” the farm-filly snorted, “It was the polite thing to do.”

“What about when you gushed all over him?” Scootaloo couldn’t keep the humor out of her voice as she mimicked Apple Bloom’s drawl, “’Talking to you is never a waste of time, Spike!’”

Sweetie Belle joined in on the pegasus’ sudden burst of laughter.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

She knew from experience that if any of them got worked up, the other two would seize the opportunity to tease more. It wasn’t that they were malicious, but getting defensive – to their young minds, at least – was proof enough that they were hiding something, and that the teasing itself was justified.

“Huh,” Scootaloo noted after calming down, “You really don’t like him?”

“I guess not,” Sweetie Belle frowned, “Even you flipped out when we found out about your crush on Rumble.”

“I don’t have a crush on Rumble!” Scootaloo blurted, blushing and wings sputtering uselessly. She coughed into her hoof as she composed herself. “I mean… Whatever.”

After a moment of silence, the pegasus smirked back at Sweetie Belle.

“I guess this means you can ask him out, then,” she said, “Since Apple Bloom’s not interested, there’s nothing stopping you.”

“I told you, it was one dance!” Sweetie Belle scoffed, “It happened, like, two years ago!”

“Well, fine, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll ask him out,” Scootaloo said.

A moment of silence passed before both unicorn and earth filly rounded on her.

“What?!” they both exclaimed, earning a cheeky grin from the pegasus filly.

“I thought neither of you cared?” she noted, sarcastically.

Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle scowled, exchanged looks of consternation, then both chose to stare out the windows.

“We don’t!” they said in unison.

“More dragon for me, I guess,” Scootaloo taunted, but they didn’t rise to the bait.

“Maybe I’ll ask Rumble out,” Apple Bloom muttered. She winced once she realized it was herself who had spoken.

“Ha!” Scootaloo threw her hooves up in victory, “I knew it! You like Spike!”

“Okay, fine!” Apple Bloom groaned, “Maybe I like him a little, but it’s not like I obsess over him like you do over Rumble.”

“I don’t obsess over him,” Scootaloo scowled, but it softened into a smile, “but maybe I do like him.”

“Knew it,” Sweetie Belle nudged Apple Bloom.

“Can’t we talk about something other than boys?” the farm filly asked, “Boys are boring.”

“Sorry Apple Bloom,” Scootaloo sighed, “I just don’t want to think about this job. What if we can’t handle it?”

“Princess Celestia didn’t give any details…” Sweetie Belle agreed.

“Girls, when have we ever not been able to handle something?” Apple Bloom demanded, “We’re the Cutie Mark Crusaders, not the Cutie Mark Quitters! If there’s a Cutie Mark problem, we can solve it!”

“Yeah!” the other fillies cheered, feeling their resolve bolstered by the pep talk.

“How bad could it be?” Apple Bloom asked, smugly.


…


“Oh, my aching head…” Starlight muttered as she stumbled into Twilight’s castle. Two late nights of sugar highs had taken their toll on her, though Pinkie Pie had woken unfazed by them. The unicorn, on the other hoof, needed some black coffee and several gallons of water to flush the powdery sucrose from her system. How many sweets had she eaten in order to feel so thoroughly sick?

“Afternoon, Starlight,” Spike greeted as he finished his daily chores. He looked at her in concern. “Did you just wake up?”

“N-no,” Starlight lied, squinting at the dragon, “Did you grow?”

“Is every pony seeing it except me?” Spike asked, “Seriously, I don’t look any different!”

“Mares notice these kinds of things,” the unicorn smirked, temporarily forgetting her pain and nausea, “Is Twilight here?”

“She’s not,” Spike looked worried, “She didn’t show up at the train station, either.”

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Starlight managed to hide her own concern, “What kind of trouble could she and Trixie get into, anyway?”

“Spike!” Twilight’s voice echoed from the grand entryway of the castle that Starlight had just come from. Both turned to see the Princess shielding her eyes with her wings while hauling a small cart. Inside the cart lay Trixie, snoring loudly, face covered by her hat. “Put on a pot of coffee! Make it blacker than Sombra’s heart!”

“What happened?” Starlight asked, eyes wide as the dragon ran off to comply.

“Trixie suggested we go to a… less than reputable establishment,” Twilight grimaced, “I felt I owed her, still. The cider was cheap and tasted awful, and the next thing I knew, we were both singing cabana music!”

Starlight blinked, trying and failing to imagine Twilight losing control like that.

“Where did you end up sleeping?” she asked as she helped the Princess out of the cart harness.

“Uh…” Twilight looked around, “Under this cart, I think?”

“You think?!” Starlight balked at the thought of Ponyville’s Princess sleeping under a cart!

“Snuggle-snuggle…” Trixie giggled under her hat, pawing at the air.

Without looking or even changing expression, Twilight kicked the cart with her back hoof, tipping it over and sending the magician rolling out into a heap. The unicorn groaned as she woke to the wonderful world of light and sound, feeling for all the world like some pony had set off her fireworks collection inside her head.

“Coffee…” she mewled, pathetically, unwilling to move.

“So…” Starlight looked back at the Princess, smiling slyly, “Did you have fun, at least?”

Twilight stared flatly at Starlight for nearly half a minute before her face split into a tired grin.

“Maybe,” she snorted, “Next time Discord offers to visit one of the rowdier establishments, I might take him up on the offer. It felt pretty good cutting loose.”

“Just don’t make a habit of it,” Starlight laughed, pleased to see her mentor so relaxed despite the pain, “That goes double for you, Trixie. We’re going to be students for royalty soon, so we need to start acting like it.”

“Just celebrating getting accepted to college…” Trixie slurred, partially buried in her hat and cape, “Maybe Trixie will learn how to turn the sun off…”

Spike returned with a pot of coffee and three mugs. The magician sat bolt upright at the smell, ignoring her fatigue and pain and drinking the black muck greedily. Twilight and Starlight drank in a more refined manner, but nearly as quickly. The dragon hurried off to make more as they finished the pot.

“Trixie hates this stuff,” Trixie mumbled, staring into her mug with distaste, “but it is the only thing that helps her think after a night of cider drinking.”

“How often do you do these kinds of things, Trixie?” Twilight asked, flexing and un-flexing her wings as she felt the headache ebb away.

“Usually after being defeated,” the blue-furred mare mumbled before taking another bitter swig, “Geeze, Spike, couldn’t you have added some sugar?”

“If you don’t want a refill…” the dragon threatened as he made to leave with the fresh pot he had brought.

“Trixie apologizes!” the magician said quickly in a panic.

“Did you have cider, too?” Twilight asked.

“Just another Pinkie Pie sugar bender,” Starlight smiled, weakly, “I don’t think it’s natural to keep having those.”

“Believe me, it’s not,” Twilight snorted, “I could make a career out of studying Pinkie Pie’s defiance of all natural law. I have a theory the Pie family might be part draconequus.”

“That…” Spike began, then tapped his chin in thought, “would actually answer a lot…”

“Anyway,” Twilight shook her head, “Are you two all packed? I know you don’t leave until Friday, but it’s best to have everything set up as soon as possible, that way you have nothing to worry about.”

“I didn’t have much to pack,” Starlight confessed, “other than the supplies you got for us.”

“Same,” Spike agreed.

“I suppose neither of you really have much in the way of personal possessions, huh…” Twilight frowned at the realization, “Is there anything either of you would like for the trip?”

“It’s fine, Twilight,” Starlight assured her, “I brought a few of my books.”

“And I brought some comics,” Spike added, staring sidelong at the unicorn, “including the graphic novel of Dragon Pit.”

“No way!” Starlight said with childlike wonder, then puckered her lips shut, “Um… yeah, that sounds neat.” After Twilight rolled her eyes, Starlight leaned in close to Spike. “So, uh… are we still gonna have Guys Night with Big Mac, or what?”

“I’ve got that packed, too,” Spike whispered, eying the Princess to make sure she wasn’t eavesdropping.

“Sounds like you two have everything you need, then,” Twilight smirked, “So, what should we do today? The map has been pretty silent for months, which is bizarre.”

“Yeah, it seems like it used to light up weekly,” Starlight giggled.

“I usually just do what you tell me to,” the dragon shrugged, “well, that and my usual chores – which are done, by the way.”

“I have a suggestion,” Starlight lit up. When both friends eyed her questioningly, she said “Kites!”

“…Kites?” Twilight deadpanned, but was overridden by Spike.

“That sounds like fun!” he said, “So, do I make my own, or…”

“Oh, I have plenty of spares,” Starlight chuckled with pride as she led the way to her collection of kites, “I have a Sky Hopper 9000 – only 500 of those were ever made.”

“I don’t know what that is, but it sounds neat!” Spike chortled as Twilight followed them, smiling at their peculiarities.

“Trixie prefers the Sorcerer Supreme,” the magician said, “When it flies it looks like it’s levitating.”

“I also bought a Princess Twilight kite from when Iron Will tried to merchandise your image,” Starlight giggled, “It’s still in its packaging, though; it’s just a recolor of the Celestia Flyer.”

“You sure like kites,” Twilight noted as she looked around Starlight’s room at the various kites. There were a lot of new ones… Twilight pointed at an interesting dragon-shaped one that was purple with green spines, smirking, “Where did you get that one?”

“Oh… uh…” Starlight coughed into her hoof, blushing, “I made it myself. I got the idea from a dream I had.”

“A good dream, I hope,” Spike mumbled without realizing it, wincing and blushing in equal measure when he realized he had thought it aloud.

Twilight glared at her blushing roommates, wondering if letting them go to Canterlot alone together was a good idea. Sighing in defeat she selected the Celestia Flyer and tried to ignore the other three smirking at her for her choice.

“Let’s go have some fun!” Twilight declared, leading the way to the park.

Headache aside, this was going to be a great week one way or the other.
> 11
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


11


Apple Bloom emerged from her room in a stupor. She had never slept in a castle before, and the sheer scale and majesty of it all left her feeling perpetually worried she would break things just by staring at them. Gone were the rustic surroundings of her youth, replaced by a world where even the most mundane features were masterfully-crafted works of art. The walls were expertly built and decorated. Everything was made of imported stone or wood, or precious metals and gems. Apple Bloom was sure even a single bathroom fixture of her private bathroom could feed her family of four for a year!

It all would have been too overwhelming to sleep, but the bed had been the single most comfortable thing she had ever laid on. As soon as her head hit the pillow she was out. Her dreams had been a turbulent mess of discomfort and panic before settling into a scene that almost seemed real if not for the impossible height of her surroundings and superiors. Apple Bloom was small, almost insignificantly so, and absolutely filthy. Her hooves were caked in dried mud, her coat unwashed and dusty, her mane a tangled mess. Eyes downcast she tried to maneuver around towering decorations yet still managed to bump into them, threatening them to fall over and break…

“You shouldn’t be here,” a haughty unicorn that stood ten times her height declared, looking down on her with distaste, “this is no place for simple folk.”

“I-I’m sorry,” Apple Bloom muttered, hurrying on. More decorations, more threatening wobbles, more disdainful unicorns.

“You’re quite clumsy, aren’t you?” Celestia had said. Apple Bloom could not see her entirely, her body stretching into the heavens; looking upon her face was like looking into the sun itself and she shielded her eyes. “How did I ever expect you to solve a problem I couldn’t handle?”

Apple Bloom felt worthless, dirty, and unattractive. What was she doing there? Who was she kidding? This was a job for some pony better than her; she was just a simple farm filly trying to live in her sister’s shadow. She didn’t even know how to move around a fancy bedroom!

Apple Bloom didn’t realize she was crying until a voice snapped her out of her despair.

“Apple Bloom…” it whispered from high above.

Straining to look up into the impossibly-high face of Celestia, she saw that the face had been replaced with the gentle light of the moon and that it was night. The titan of Celestia was merely an ancient colossus, nothing but stone. As Apple Bloom looked around, she saw only ruins of majesty where once there had been fragile beauty. Now it was collapsed, but no less majestic – a reliquary of ancient grace, glowing in the pale moonlight. Princess Luna descended from the heavens and landed behind her, starry mane flowing and eyes all-but-glowing in the night.

“What is wrong, child?” she asked, eyes startlingly concerned for her wellbeing.

“P-Princess!” Apple Bloom curtsied low, “I-it’s nothing; just a dream.”

“Arise, young Apple Bloom,” Luna smiled, but it was a thin veil, “Dreams are not nothing. They are gateways into the soul. One can learn a great many things from what they dream about.”

“What am I supposed to learn from this?” Apple Bloom gestured around at the ruins.

“That beauty is everlasting,” Luna noted, walking around the statue, “that even gods can turn out to be false. Or perhaps it is symbolic that fragile decadence will ultimately collapse and be forgotten…”

Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow at the alicorn’s analysis. She was smart, but still just a filly; a lot of that went over her head, but it didn’t sound entirely reassuring for her mental state.

“You feel out of place in Canterlot, yes?” Luna asked, suddenly, “As if you don’t… fit in?”

“Yeah,” Apple Bloom said, simply.

“You struggle to live up to the example of your heroic older sister,” Luna stated rather than asked, eyes fixed on the headless colossus of Celestia, “Failing to do so makes you feel…”

“Worthless,” Apple Bloom finished, still taking in the desolation. Luna had been right; even ruined, the castle was beautiful. In ruins, though, it was no longer intimidating, and only then did the filly realize she was clean again.

“Yes…” Luna mumbled, then snapped back to the moment, “Well, never fear, Apple Bloom. You do belong; my sister is quite inclusive. Oh, and do not worry about breaking anything. Accidents happen.”

“Even to you?” Apple Bloom asked.

“W-well…” Luna thought back to the other morning where, half-asleep, she had bumped into a collection of statues and sent them all shattering to the ground, “Y-yes, I suppose even to me.”

“I just don’t want to be an embarrassment…” the young filly sighed.

“Your sister is immeasurably proud of you, Apple Bloom,” Luna spared a more favorable look at the headless statue, “Besides, we have restoration magic; if anything is broken, it can be repaired.”

Apple Bloom smiled at the memory of the dream. If anything is broken, it can be repaired...

Despite that, the filly still watched her footing as she traversed the halls of the castle. In time she made her way to the dining room. She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight before her. Seeing either Princess alone was awe-inspiring enough, and seeing two was simply phenomenal. Seeing Princess Celestia cooking pancakes, though, really took the proverbial cake. Yet the greatest shock were the two stallions seated across from a tired Luna and next to a wary Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo – two stallions Apple Bloom thought she’d never see again.

“Flim?” she asked, drawing all eyes, “Flam? What in Equestria are you two doing here?”

“They,” Sweetie Belle gestured to the twins, sardonically, “are our Cutie Mark problem.”

“Oh boy…” Apple Bloom sighed, taking her seat next to Luna and giving her a thankful smile. The exhausted Princess gave a tired smile in return. “So… how was Yakyakistan?”

Celestia almost choked on her drink trying not to laugh while Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo exchanged questioning looks. The twins looked suitably abashed, which relieved Apple Bloom; maybe there was some hope for them yet.

“It was very cold,” Flim said, quickly, but his brother didn’t follow up in their usual pattern.

Apple Bloom noted that with curiosity but chose to focus on eating her pancakes. Her and her friends were very vocal about how delicious the meal was, which the Princess of the Day took as high praise.

“Tia is an excellent cook, right brother?” Flim asked.

“Indubitably!” Flam agreed, avoiding looking at Celestia.

“Charmers,” Celestia murmured into her drink, not smiling. The fillies suddenly felt a tension in the air, but decided to ignore it.

“So…” Scootaloo decided to focus on their job as breakfast was wrapping up, “I’m going to venture a guess and say you two are having trouble figuring out what your Cutie Marks mean, right?”

“Wonderfully astute, little pegasus filly,” Flam nodded, happy to be distracted from his Sunday cinema fiasco, “My brother and I have never really been able to determine what they mean, exactly!”

“Interesting…” Sweetie Belle rubbed her chin. The last time they had a case like this was Diamond Tiara, but even she knew what her talent was – she just didn’t know how best to use it.

“It’s probably best if you start from the beginning,” Apple Bloom suggested.

“And I should get some sleep,” Luna politely excused herself and left the table, “Enjoy your stay in Canterlot, Crusaders. Let me know if you want to talk.”

“Bye Luna!” Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle waved after her, surprising each other and Apple Bloom.

“That’s a might bit informal, don’t you think?” the farm filly asked.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo chuckled, sheepishly, “she helped me with a problem a long time ago and she’s just so nice…”

“Same with me, actually,” Sweetie Belle noted.

“Huh, me too,” Apple Bloom said.

“My sister takes great pride in personally helping her subjects in their dreams,” Celestia explained, “She keeps an extensive dream journal detailing every pony’s dreams and nightmares, though she’s the only one I know who’s ever read it.”

“It’s nice that she goes the extra mile like that,” Apple Bloom smiled, unaware the comment made Celestia’s eye twitch in minor annoyance.

“Yeah, it must be hard for you Princesses to get around and talk to us every day ponies…” Scootaloo agreed.

“There are a lot of responsibilities,” Celestia said, simply, “I believe you said something about starting from the beginning? I should leave you five to it, then.”

Celestia left the three fillies and two stallions alone. Big Mac had already come and gone, and Celestia had delighted in the awkwardly stilted breakfast he’d shared with Luna before quickly departing. He was still around, keeping his eyes on Flim and Flam while simultaneously allowing the fillies some privacy.

“The beginning, then,” Apple Bloom agreed, “We are on the clock, after all.”

Flim and Flam looked uncomfortable. They were two grown stallions who had always put on airs of confidence and were now, suddenly, relying on three fillies to figure out a problem they should know the answer to. It was pretty embarrassing.

“Well…” Flim began.

The Cutie Mark Crusaders listened to the story. According to the twins, it began when they were young colts trying to make some money. They didn’t specify where, but their hometown wasn’t very supportive, and their parents seemed absent. With no friends to help them, they had to improvise. With almost no resources, they had schemed to overstate the value of what little they had in order to barter for items of slightly more worth. Eventually their swindling had acquired them a crate of apples which were overly-ripe. They managed to harness the juice and water it down, selling the unpleasant beverages as a ‘healthy, diet’ fruit juice. Then they got their Cutie Marks.

“So you think your talent is swindling other ponies together?” Apple Bloom asked, eyeing the apple slice and sliced apple on their flanks.

“We might be having second thoughts,” Flam confessed, “Our first day of business lessons yesterday made us realize we don’t need to trick ponies…”

“It also goes without saying that we don’t have much in the way of money,” Flim chortled, “So, if swindling for bits was our special talent, then why aren’t we rich?”

“Well, wealth doesn’t really tie into it,” Sweetie explained, “Now, the fact you two keep getting called out on your scams is a better example of why it’s not your talent. After all, if you were good at it, you wouldn’t get caught.”

“Ouch!” Flam reeled, “Dear brother, we’ve just been served a cold plate of reality from a filly half our age!”

“Indeed, brother!” Flim looked the young unicorn up and down, reevaluating her.

“There’s no doubt your Cutie Marks are about you two working together,” Scootaloo said, earning nods of agreement from her friends, “they literally complete each other!”

“Them being apples isn’t too important, either,” Apple Bloom explained, “Sometimes a symbol is just a symbol; for instance, my Cutie Mark has an apple, but my talent is shared with the others and has nothing to do with apples.”

“Have either of you thought about managing a legitimate juice company?” Sweetie suggested, drawing all eyes to her, “I mean, think about it. Both of you enjoy selling beverages; isn’t that what you always end up selling? Why not be partners in a legitimate business?”

“You both are pretty talented engineers,” Apple Bloom added, “You did build that cider machine, right?”

“Yes, but it turned out to be a failure,” Flim frowned.

“What if you tried again?” Scootaloo asked, “This time, don’t cut corners, though.”

“These are interesting ideas,” Flam held his head up, “but I fail to see what they have to do with our talent.”

“Are we business-ponies, juice sales-ponies, swindlers, engineers?” Flim asked.

“I think you’re focusing too much on the talent,” Apple Bloom smiled, disarmingly, “Your talent ain’t a skill or even a skillset; it’s you two working together! Think about it.”

“You two are amazing problem-solvers,” Sweetie explained.

“…and skilled engineers and carpenters,” Scootaloo added.

“…who are also very charismatic,” Apple Bloom finished, “These traits don’t fit under any one talent, and they certainly don’t confine you to a single job. Your talent is that you two can accomplish anything together!”

“Which means, with Celestia’s teachings, you two could be the greatest business-ponies…” Sweetie began.

“…or engineers…” Scootaloo continued.

“…or anything you put your mind to!” Apple Bloom finished.

“Huh…” flam grunted, clearing his throat a little and trying to hold back a wave of emotion, “No pony has ever shown so much faith in us before.”

“Even when we were young, before we took up swindling,” Flim seemed to have similar trouble, scrubbing his eyes and pretending there was something caught in them, “every pony treated us as if we were up to no good. No pony has ever told us we had potential for anything beyond swindling before.”

“Imagine, brother…” Flam looked in the distance.

“Thank you,” the twins said, uncharacteristically quiet and slow, the genuineness in their voice startling the fillies more than the bow they pulled off in tandem, “Cutie Mark Crusaders.”

“Aw, shucks, it was nothing,” Apple Bloom blushed at the praise, then frowned at a realization, “Darn… I guess we finished our job and it ain’t even lunch yet.”

“That has to be our fastest Cutie Mark solution to date,” Scootaloo raised her eyebrows, “Talk about a speed record.”

“So… what now?” Sweetie asked, nodding farewell to the unicorn twins as they left the dining room, both excited at their newfound possibilities.

They were still sitting there when Princess Celestia returned from her first round of royal duties, levitating one of Flim and Flam’s leftover sodas from the fridge and twisting it open. She noticed the fillies alone.

“What happened?” she asked, “Those two didn’t get frustrated and walk out, did they?”

“Quite the opposite,” Apple Bloom confessed, “We helped them figure out their talent.”

“Already?!” Celestia almost choked on the soda before regaining her poise, “I knew you were experts, but that’s impressive…”

“It was actually pretty simple,” Scootaloo explained, “Their talent is working well together; they have a lot of skills, but they only seem to work when they cooperate.”

“With your teachings on ethics,” Sweetie added, “they could do a lot of good!”

“As I said,” Celestia nodded, “impressive. What is next for you, young Crusaders?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” the farm filly scraped a hoof against the floor, refusing to look up at the Princess, her dream coming back to mind, “we, uh… we don’t know what to do.”

“Do we just go back home, or…?” Sweetie left the question unspoken.

“You’ve helped me with the task I have assigned you,” Celestia smiled, “You are welcome guests in Canterlot, at least for as long as your families permit. Still, I sense there is something else you wish. Please, speak.”

The three fillies eyed each other anxiously, not used to requesting something from a Princess. Finally, Scootaloo stepped forward, putting on a display of confidence and determination she was nowhere close to feeling. Celestia eyed her, coolly, curious where this was going.

“We would like to be taught,” the pegasus filly said, her resolve eroding a little at sounding so demanding, “b-by you or Princess Luna.”

“I-if that’s alright with you,” Apple Bloom added, Sweetie nodding in agreement.

Celestia eyed each of them in turn before turning her back on them and looking at the sculpted arches of the ceiling.

“I confess I was not expecting this,” she admitted, “I usually only educate unicorns because my teachings are almost exclusively in magic – a continuation of Starswirl’s lessons, truth be told. To be accepted into such a program requires in-depth knowledge over the magical arts and histories, a working knowledge of Old Ponish, and passing a very intensive magical test.”

The fillies felt their shoulders stoop at the revelations. What were they thinking, just waltzing in and asking Celestia to take them in as students after a measly hour of work?!

“However,” Celestia continued, causing their ears to perk up, “I have been experimenting with new curriculums to educate Flim and Flam on business ethics. Are any of you interested in that?”

“Actually, about the business thing,” Apple Bloom interjected, “their skills aren’t exclusive to it; they’re also talented in other areas.” After a moment, the filly blushed and said, “B-but taking an ethics course would be pretty nice, I suppose.”

“Not exclusive to business, eh?” Celestia rubbed her chin, “Well, I can certainly expand the curriculum a little, though now I don’t know how my plan to have them convert business-ponies to my new philosophy will work…”

“I’m sure they’ll find their niche the more they learn,” Sweetie smiled, “we structure our Cutie Mark recreations to include a wide variety of activities so ponies can find what appeals to them!”

“I imagine those two never really had many options to explore growing up,” Apple Bloom frowned, realizing how fortunate she was to have as many opportunities as she had in Ponyville.

“I suppose I should give them more choices,” Celestia conceded, “It would not be very teacher-like of me if I forced them into a career field just to advance my agenda… Alright, I will structure my classes to teach ethics, but will also introduce them to a wide range of topics and skills. The classes are later in the afternoon, 4:00 PM sharp. Luna has her classes planned to start around 6:00 PM; I’m sure she would not mind starting early, if you are interested in taking both our courses.”

“How long do the classes last?” Sweetie asked.

“I’d say mine ends around the same time hers starts,” Celestia thought about it, “though I suppose we could work a dinner break in there. Her classes will only be about two hours in length, as well; when true night falls, she begins her dream duties.”

“Whoa, we only have to go to class for four hours a day?!” Scootaloo smiled wide.

“Don’t get too excited,” Celestia warned, all seriousness, “These classes will not be like your schoolhouse courses; you will be expected to study extensively and apply what you learn to your everyday lives. Surely you’ve seen how much Twilight reads?”

The fillies paled considerably.

“Alright, so you won’t read quite that much,” Celestia smirked, “but these are advanced courses. If you really wish to study under Princesses, you must be willing to give royal effort.”

“Yes ma’am!” the three fillies declared, standing tall.

“Uh…” Scootaloo faltered, “How much is tuition?”

“Don’t worry about that, my little ponies,” Celestia chuckled, “I have the magic of scholarships!”

She chuckled at her own joke, but the fillies only looked at each other in confusion.

“Odd,” Celestia tilted her head, “Twilight always loved that joke. I shall see you three at four o’clock sharp. I’ll forward a supply list to Big Macintosh, and he can take you shopping for supplies in the meantime. Do not worry about the cost.”

“You are too kind, Princess,” Apple Bloom said as all three fillies bowed before running off to get ready for a shopping trip.

Celestia left to attend to her second bout of royal duties, finding Gutsy Gust watching the twins as they discussed their newfound possibilities. She smiled at them, momentarily forgetting she was still cross with Flam for his rebuffing of her advances the other day. Why had she thought taking Luna’s romantic advice was a good idea? Either way, it was good to see them in such high spirits, eagerly planning newer, bolder ideas while keeping her teachings in their minds. Even a single day’s course had given them a rough idea of what they should work towards.

“Gutsy Gust,” she said, drawing all eyes, “I need you to deliver a list of study supplies to Big Macintosh for three fillies. Tell him to charge it to the royal treasury and ensure he has the proper paperwork to do so.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the stallion saluted without question and flew off to obey.

“You two are about to have some fellow students,” the Princess of the Day smiled.

“The Crusaders?” Flam asked, surprised.

“Aren’t these lessons supposed to be difficult?” Flim added.

“I hope you don’t take offense,” Celestia chuckled, “but the courses you are taking are geared more for… novices.”

“Now why would we take offense?” Flam asked, anxiously. Normally he’d have said something sarcastic, but rejecting the Princess in a panic had made him tread lighter than a mouse surrounded by sleeping alley cats. Celestia rolled her eyes at him.

“Anyway…” she continued, “I feel I have not given you both the best educational experience possible.”

“It’s… only our second day of classes, Tia…” Flim pointed out.

“…so I’ve decided to allow you to attend Luna’s courses as well, if you wish,” Celestia ignored the clean-shaven twin, “I feel you two need the opportunity to explore and try new things.”

“What about learning business and spreading your teachings?” Flam asked.

“You don’t need to be business-ponies to spread my teachings,” Celestia said, gently, “and if there’s anything either of you want to try, just let me know.”

“A-anything?” Flam asked.

“You had your chance,” Celestia warned through gritted teeth.

“I-I was just thinking of…” Flam’s eyes darted around.

“A new beverage idea!” Flim threw in, quickly, “A blend that simulates your hair color!”

“Yeah, that!” Flam nodded.

“Interesting,” the Princess nodded, “hopefully it washes out easier than the cola you spilled in my lap the other day.”

“Are you still mad about that?” Flam chuckled, weakly.

“Let’s just say it would probably be advisable to let Flim do the talking for both of you for the next few days…” Celestia smiled, but it was a cold smile, “See you this afternoon, gentle-colts.”

As soon as she was gone, the twins let out a breath they had been holding.


…


“Don’t we usually have to buy textbooks or something?” Apple Bloom asked as she noticed their acquired supplies were mostly just quills, ink, and parchment.

“The castle provides the reading material,” Sweetie said, “Canterlot’s Royal Library is supposed to be the single greatest collection of knowledge in Equestria! Or, that’s what Twilight always says.”

“Maybe you two will find another library assistant to swoon over,” Scootaloo grinned mischievously at her friends.

“Maybe you’ll find another Wonderbolt-obsessed colt to obsess over,” Apple Bloom shot back, exchanging a hoof-bump with Sweetie Belle and earning a glare from the pegasus.

“Have you talked to Princess Luna yet, Big Mac?” Apple Bloom asked her older brother who carried the bulk of their purchased supplies in his saddlebags.

“Nope,” the stallion said.

“You gonna tell her your courting Sugar Belle?” the farm filly asked, “I mean, if she is interested in you, and all.”

“Nope,” Big Mac said, “’Cause I ain’t courting Sugar Belle no more.”

The three fillies stopped as Big Mac kept walking.

“What?!” they cried in unison, forcing him to turn around in surprise.

“W-what happened to the country songs, and the building a display for her?!” Scootaloo asked.

“And the nose-rubs?!” Sweetie added, “There was definitely nose-rubbing!”

“Why didn’t you tell me you two broke up?!” Apple Bloom demanded.

“Apple Bloom,” Big Mac snorted, face flushed in embarrassment as a few Canterlot ponies raised eyebrows at the spectacle while they passed, “It wasn’t that big of a deal. We saw each other for a few weeks, but the distance was too much to keep the relationship going. Neither of us was going to move, so… well, sometimes things just don’t work out.”

“But why didn’t you tell me?” the youngest Apple frowned, “You’re not crying on the inside like Applejack does, are you?”

“Not this time,” Big Mac sighed, resuming their walk, “It just ended by mutual consent, and we’re both still good friends. We just couldn’t make it work.”

“Wow, that’s awful…” Sweetie Belle frowned, “How will Apple Bloom and Spike be together if she’s stuck on the farm and he’s in Canterlot?”

“Oh, for the love of…” the farm filly cringed.

“Spike?” Big Mac raised his eyebrows, then grinned, “Well, you could certainly do worse.”

“H-he’s just a friend, got it?” Apple Bloom glared at her older brother.

“Eeyup,” he replied, but that smug look on his face only made her grind her teeth. Sweetie Belle was going to pay for that little remark.

“Let’s just get the rest of these supplies and get back,” Apple Bloom sighed, “It’s almost 3:00 and we still need to write our families about our acceptance!”

The others agreed and picked up the pace, eager to return to the castle.


…


“Would you mind running that by me again, please?” Celestia blinked at the two envoys.

“Since Her Majesty’s absence from the World Friendship Summit, the non-pony member states have formed a military coalition in opposition to Equestria and her allies,” one of the envoys, a Germane by his accent and uniform, explained.

“I just wanted to make sure I heard that correctly,” Celestia nodded, trying to stay composed and failing to hide the sheer dumbfounded-ness from her face, “N-now why are there two envoys instead of just one?”

“Many of our city-states can no longer tolerate the backwards traditions and political games of the more… aristocratic regimes,” the other envoy, from Marexico by her accent, declared, “They look down upon us for our more secular views, and for being governed by regular ponies.”

“Am I to understand the pony nations are dividing into two opposing camps, as well?” Celestia raised an eyebrow in an effort to appear mildly threatening.

“We are loyal to the Crown!” both envoys bowed in unison.

“…but we cannot allow these ideals of secular thought and democracy pollute our traditions and our culture!” the Germane growled, glaring at the Marexican, “They will not rest until all that is sacred and Ponish is cast out, replaced by their cold logic and foreign ideals!”

“…and we can no longer stand being dragged down and held back by associating with these close-minded, arrogant fools who live in opulence while their ponies starve!” the Marexican shot back, “I speak for all of the republican city-states when I say we are sick and tired of being tread on by tyrants!”

“Yet you still defer to me?” Celestia asked, not understanding, “You agree I am not divine, and believe in representative democracy to appoint leadership, but you still submit loyalty to me? Why?”

“To keep themselves safe,” the Germane muttered.

“Partly, this is true,” the Marexican said, evenly, “There is safety in unity with the entirety of pony-kind, and this is only through submission to Your Majesty, but there is more to it than that. While our city-states might be secular, we allow our subjects to embrace any faith, and the vast majority in all our city-states view you as a goddess, even if the states themselves will not. If you or Luna were to order anything that opposed our government, we would certainly follow you. Democracy is majority rule, after all, and the majority would follow your every word.”

“Then why have a democracy at all?” Celestia asked. Why even bother with leadership and secular states if the majority were part of the kooky cult worshipping her and would just vote to follow her every word? What was the difference between that and the aristocratic city-states?

“To protect our rights and give us the power to choose our own laws and destinies,” the Marexican got teary-eyed with passion, “Prance, Appleloosa, Marexico… these are but a few of the great republican city-states.”

“Okay…” Celestia hadn’t really bothered studying the constitutions of every individual city-state within Equestria, let alone without. Luna had brushed up on it more than she had, which in hindsight was kind of sad considering Celestia had had 1,000 years more time to study. “Well, if both of you are loyal, then I order you two end this silly feud.”

“This cannot be done, Your Majesty,” the Germane shook his head, “Our honor has been challenged, and the threat of democratic institutions and secularism is too great!”

“She just said they were loyal to me!” Celestia threw her hooves in the air, “Your city-state sees me as divine, my word as holy writ! Both of your city-states have pledged loyalty to my decrees! How is it impossible to obey my order?!”

“We will stay our hooves from conflict, Your Majesty,” the Marexican pledged, “but we cannot stand working together so long as this rift in ideology exists.”

“What do you propose?” Celestia asked.

“Take command of the city-states,” the Germane said, “Unite us! You are the unquestioned ruler of Equestria and all of pony-kind! You can bind us into the greatest empire the world has ever known!”

“I agree, but do not dishonor us by subjecting the entirety of our kind to the model of tyranny these aristocrats use!” the Marexican argued, “I beg you, your majesty! Create a republic, liberate the commoners from these backwater city-states and give them a voice in government! We can have our great pony nation, but let it be built by free ponies!”

“The common pony is a valuable asset, I agree,” the Germane said quickly, “but they are not fit to govern themselves! Most in our city-states are illiterate and uneducated in all but their trade! They do not understand the intricacies of politics. They are not prepared for such things.”

“We prove it can be done, given the education and the opportunity,” the Marexican pleaded.

“They are weak city-states with poor histories of constant infighting and disharmony,” the Germane spat, “Our city-states are secure in their hierarchies, our ponies prosperous and attentive to your teachings.”

“I… I need to think about this,” Celestia said, “Leave me. I shall discuss this with my co-regent, Luna. She is just as much the ruler of Equestria as I am.”

The two bowed, simply, though Celestia doubted either of them truly considered Luna her equal. Celestia watched them leave, feeling herself twist up inside. The non-pony nations were now military allies, while the pony city-states had gone into a frenzy of debate in her absence and decided to disassociate with each other. Now her only option was to finally use her royal authority to bind the city-states together into a more permanent institution. The model she would choose was obvious; they were godlike monarchs whose word was obeyed absolutely by all ponies. To bind the pony city-states as a single democratic republic was idiocy, for that would give their subjects the illusion of power over the royal family, and that simply wasn’t true.

Between the two of them, Celestia and Luna controlled the heavenly bodies and thus the energy that fed the world, and the tides that kept the seas and weather in order. They were immortal and more powerful than any force that had tried to stop them (minus one or two). To imply that common ponies could hold them accountable was simply a lie, an illusion that would feed their egos until every colt and filly thought they could hold their own against dark gods. It was irresponsible to feed such assumptions.

Celestia found her thinking rushed, jumbled by the sudden complications in national and international politics. Worse, she realized it was 3:56. She shoved the ideas to the back of her mind and rushed to teach her class, not wanting her students to think she was anything less than punctual.


…


“So…” Flim tapped his hooves together, sitting with his brother in one row of benches and trying to break the awkward silence with the fillies in another row, “Your sister owns a chain of clothing stores?”

“Fashion boutiques,” Sweetie Belle corrected.

“And your sister is a Wonderbolt?” Flam asked the pegasus.

“And she does Weather Patrol,” Scootaloo beamed, “Rainbow Dash is the best!”

“That’s all very impressive,” Flim whistled, “Maybe we were pining after the wrong mare, eh brother?”

“If my sister rejected you two,” Apple Bloom snorted, “you better believe theirs would, too. They have much higher standards than sis.”

“I seem to recall Applejack rejecting a lot more stallions than either of our sisters,” Sweetie smirked.

“Yeah, your sister would probably date both of them at once, actually!” Scootaloo laughed.

“Watch it…” Sweetie Belle warned.

“Say, Flam…” Apple Bloom said, “I got the impression Princess Celestia was mad at you. Were you two…?”

“Careful, brother,” Flim smirked, “she could probably sniff out a lie from a mile away like her sister.”

“I misread some signals…” Flam decided half-truths were probably his safest bets, “…and spilled some soda on her lap.”

The fillies burst into laughter and even Flim joined in, slamming a hoof against the desk. Flam only sighed, hoping they’d get it out of their system before Celestia arrived. Much to his relief, their laughter petered out mere seconds before the Princess of the hour arrived, right as the clock turned to 4:00.

“Good afternoon, my little ponies!” she greeted them, though Flam thought her smile seemed a little forced. Looking at a bored Flim and the ecstatic fillies, it was obvious he was the only one who noticed. “Today we have new students, so I will now let the three of you take some time to introduce yourselves and make friends!”

She watched as her students eyed each other in curiosity.

“Uh… Princess Celestia?” Apple Bloom raised her hoof, “We all already know each other.”

“Oh, so you do,” Celestia laughed, nervously, “Well, let’s just move onto the lesson, then. I have provided each of you with a copy of Starswirl the Bearded’s Compendium of Compassion, one of the finest classics on Equestrian ethics. I found the text quite longwinded in my youth, but it really grows on a pony after a few years. I’m sure each of you will find comfort somewhere in its pages.”

“It’s quite a lengthy read,” Flim noted, measuring the book against the circumference of his hoof and finding them about even, “I don’t suppose there’s plentiful footnotes and commentaries inside?”

“It’s a primary source, silly,” Celestia giggled, “There are no footnotes because there’s nothing to reference. And no, this is not one of the commentary editions – those are much too long.”

“And this isn’t?” Scootaloo whispered to her friends.

“Now, this will be your textbook for the entire course, which means it will be your only book for sixteen weeks,” Celestia explained, earning sighs of relief from her pupils, “but in order to finish it within that time, you will need to read no less than sixty pages a day.”

“Sixty pages?!” the fillies and twins cried out in unison.

“I also recommend taking extensive notes,” the Princess ignored the outburst, “because I will be quizzing you on the readings daily, and testing you with essay assignments weekly.”

“Oh dear, sweet Celestia preserve us!” Flam groaned, burying himself under his forelegs.

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” Celestia chuckled, “After the first week, you’ll find sixty pages a day is not as much as it seems; the font is actually larger than in some other editions. Please recall that pocket editions of this book have been made. Now, let us begin with a history of Equestria’s founding and the mystical implications of harmony in repelling the Windigos…”

After two hours, Celestia dismissed the dismal-looking ponies before her, smiling at the fond memories where she was the one shuffling away in despair. Oh, she wished Starswirl would hurry up and return from his world exploration. His postcards and letters were humorous, but she missed the old goat. His advice would certainly come in handy right about then…

The Princess blinked in surprise as Luna strolled in with a cart of books of her own and an eager smile on her face. She had forgotten about the offer to have Luna teach.

“You are certainly excited to begin your first evening of teaching, I see,” Celestia allowed herself a genuine smile at her sister’s happiness.

“More than that, Tia!” Luna beamed, “I have gotten word that Starlight and Spike are planning to travel here tomorrow morning rather than wait! They are both eager to begin their studies, and I suspect the time waiting has been painful for them.”

“Painful?” Celestia asked, worried.

“Emotionally so,” Luna sighed, “They are counting down the days until they say goodbye to their friends and family in Ponyville. It is far easier, in some cases, to simply hurry and get it over with.”

“I see…” Celestia nodded, sympathetically, “You have always been better at reading the inner emotions of ponies.”

“It is a skill one develops from seeing inside their minds,” Luna smiled at the compliment, “You have always been much greater at personal relationships, however.”

“A skill one acquires from painfully long days having to deal with every pony,” Celestia snorted, “I’m surprised I can get these two hours for classes.”

“I hope you have not overtaxed my charges,” Luna said, “It gets a little annoying, sometimes, when every pony is too exhausted to hang out with me.”

“I recall,” Celestia murmured, “Dear sister, there is a pressing matter that needs our attention, but it can wait until after your class.”

“Oh,” Luna perked up in surprise, unused to sudden emergencies that required both of them, “It must be urgent.”

“Not so urgent it can’t wait two hours,” Celestia smiled, then yawned, “Nothing can be expected to be done for a few days, regardless.” The fillies returned, though Flim and Flam had opted out of attending the night course. “If you will excuse me, sister, I will leave you to your ‘charges’.”

Luna took the lectern as the Princess of the Day walked away, still yawning.

“Upon this cart is a collection of books,” Luna explained, levitating one before each of the fillies, “each is a political primer written by a different author. Do not fear, they are simple manifestos numbering less than a hundred pages in length. These will be your only books for the course, and you will have to read all three eventually, but feel free to enjoy them at your own pace.”

“Huh, this one’s written by Starlight,” Scootaloo noted.

“So this is a political course?” Sweetie asked.

“Yes, though once a week I’m also offering special courses for those of you interested in magic, chivalry, ancient lore, and Old Ponish,” the Princess of the Night explained, “but the nightly courses will be centered around political science. Each of those primers represents a different ideal in socio-economic politics. Starlight represents a particular radical set of views.”

“I’m going to level with you and admit I don’t know half the words you used,” Apple Bloom said.

“That is why I shall teach you the basics of Equestria’s ancient laws and politics, so you might understand what is written in these books,” Luna explained, with a smile, “and why.”

“What if we’re not interested in politics?” Sweetie Belle grimaced.

“I’d encourage you to at least try a few classes…” Luna frowned, feeling a little hurt, “but if you really don’t like the course, you can drop it and still enjoy any of the once-a-week classes I plan on teaching.”

“We’ll try it,” Apple Bloom assured the Princess, the other fillies nodding agreement.

“That is all I ask,” Luna smiled, slightly reassured, “Now… let’s begin.”
> 12
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


12


Twilight watched as Spike and Starlight waited for the train to Canterlot, unable to join them in their excitement. They were chatting it up like old friends on their way to college, which the alicorn would have normally found adorable. Instead she felt in pain, and it took every ounce of her will to keep the façade of her composure from collapsing. In truth, she wanted to beg them to stay, but she knew that wouldn’t work and was, frankly, beneath her station. She had to be strong and supportive of her charges.

Still, their decision was so sudden. How was she to adjust to it? She had expected at least two more days with her faithful former student and number one assistant, but now she would return to an empty castle. She couldn’t help but feel this was all the direct result of her blowing up at the two of them over race issues and Cutie Marks a week ago. Had it even been a week? It felt far longer than that, as if months had passed. Would every day without her closest friends feel like an eternity, as well?

The Princess of Friendship felt the sudden need to hyperventilate, but kept her cool; she had to stay strong so Spike and Starlight wouldn’t feel obligated to stay for her sake. They deserved the chance to explore new fields of study. Why couldn’t she be like Trixie? The magician was propped up against her steamer trunk, snoozing away as if nothing mattered.

“I made it!” Fluttershy said as she landed next to the Princess, catching the attention of the departees, as well, “I won’t miss you this time around. Here – Discord and I made you some trail mix. There are also some spare bags for the Cutie Mark Crusaders. Would you two be so kind as to hand them along? If that’s alright.”

“Of course, Fluttershy,” Starlight said, levitating most of the bags into her saddlebags and opening one for her and the dragon to share, “thank you so much for these!”

Twilight glared at the two of them sharing the same bag… She shook her head. Friends sharing a bag of trail mix was not an implication of romance; they were probably sharing with Trixie, anyway. She needed to stop spending late nights reading Rarity’s cheap romance novels.

“Where are the others?” Twilight asked, a little desperate for moral support.

“Oh, well…” Fluttershy looked at the ground, “We had a tiny falling out the other day, so we’ve kind of been avoiding each other…” The pegasus perked up, though, “I-I know Applejack is busy with the fall harvest, though – and Rainbow Dash always works Wednesday morning.”

“I’m pretty sure Pinkie mentioned something about planning a Nightmare Night celebration,” Starlight tapped her chin, “You know how she gets when there’s a party on her schedule.”

“And Rarity?” Spike asked, causing Starlight to roll her eyes.

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” Fluttershy giggled, “She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye to you so soon after saying goodbye to her sister.”

Twilight nodded; that made sense.

“She did ask me to give you this letter, though,” Fluttershy produced a letter from her bag, but looked frustrated, “before rudely insisting I leave her boutique.”

“Is it really that bad?” Twilight groaned. Seriously, couldn’t her friends just get over the political thing? Equestria was a monarchy, like it or not, and regular ponies weren’t equipped to handle the myriad threats surrounding them.

“Nice, rose-scented!” Spike inhaled the letter. Starlight looked like she could melt rocks with her glaring.

“Fluttershy, why don’t you make sure Spike is familiar with the fauna he might encounter in Canterlot? I want to make sure he’s properly prepared for any hazards,” Twilight asked, turning towards Starlight after the pegasus nodded, “Starlight, why don’t we get some drinks from the vending machines in the meantime? After all, wouldn’t some nice juice go great with that trail mix?”

“Uh, sure Twi,” the unicorn blinked, moving to follow.

“Ooo,” Trixie crooned from under her hat, “you’re in trouble…”

The duo ignored her and walked out of earshot towards the vending machines. As soon as they rounded the corner, Twilight rounded on and cornered the unicorn.

“Do you have a crush on Spike?” Twilight demanded, quietly.

“What the-?” Starlight’s eyes widened, “What in the name of Equestria makes you think that?”

“Your interest in dragons, for one,” Twilight deadpanned, “Your kite? Your toothbrush?”

“Oh, that!” Starlight giggled, though there was a light blush, “Remember my favorite game growing up was Dragon Pit. I’ve always thought dragons were cool!”

“Especially purple ones?”

“Purple is one of my favorite colors,” Starlight snorted, stroking her mane, “though I’m a little biased.”

“With green spikes?” Twilight raised a skeptical eyebrow.

Starlight stayed silent, choosing to look at the vending machine as her blush grew.

“Let’s suppose…” she began, “that I might have a tiny crush on Spike. What would be the problem with that?”

“Oh, a hypothetical situation? I love these!” Twilight feigned enthusiasm, “Let’s see… Oh! For starters, he’s a minor!”

“By pony standards, maybe,” Starlight countered, “and yeah, he’s a baby dragon, but he’s nigh-immortal! He’ll still be a baby even when I’m dead, and his growth is, like, dependent on personal achievement and wealth! At least, that’s what you’ve said.”

“He’s still only fourteen!” Twilight hissed, checking around the corner to make sure they hadn’t drawn any attention, “The age of consent is-”

“Sixteen in Canterlot and the Crystal Empire,” Starlight declared, “and the Dragon Lands don’t have an age of consent.”

Twilight blinked.

“Law is one of my hobbies…” the unicorn blushed even more, “I swear I studied that as soon as I started living with you.”

“Just… just promise me you won’t make any advances until he’s, er… legal. Please?”

“You’re so cute when you get protective,” Starlight giggled, trying to defuse the situation. Seeing it wasn’t working, she cleared her throat and forced the blush from her face. “I don’t plan on making any advances or romantic hints. I-I don’t want to.”

“But you just confessed you had a crush…”

“I simply asked a hypothetical question,” Starlight smirked, “Now, if Spike – upon reaching the age of consent – decided to hit on me, well, I’m not getting any younger and there aren’t many stallions interested in dating a former dictator.”

“I… I guess I couldn’t really stop either of you…” Twilight sighed, “It’s just kind of weird, the idea he might date some pony my age…”

“The Cutie Mark Crusaders are in Canterlot,” Starlight said, looking a little cynical, “I’m sure he’d fall for Sweetie Belle. I mean, she looks a lot like Rarity, and they’re closer in age…”

Twilight saw the crestfallen defeatism in Starlight’s eyes and growled in frustration at what she was about to do.

“Did you know…” Twilight sighed, wondering why she was encouraging this, “did you know Spike used to sleep with a plushy of Rarity? He hasn’t for some time, now. I think he got over the crush for the most part.”

“Oh…” Starlight blushed at that. Realizing how strange the conversation was, she smiled meekly. “It’s probably just a school-filly fad; I’m sure I’ll get over it. Still… thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Twilight said, “Seriously, don’t. Now let’s get those drinks.”

Twilight and Starlight got the beverages and returned to the station as the train appeared in the distance.

“That took a while,” Trixie muttered, taking her juice, “Was there a line, or something?”

“The machine was acting weird,” Twilight explained with a knowing smirk, “but we worked it out.”

“Yeah,” Starlight felt the barb, but smirked back, “it was having a hard time giving up its juice, but it realized that’s what it had to do.”

“Self-aware vending machines?” Spike’s pupils shrunk, “This is just like the twenty-ninth issue of the Power Ponies!”

“Don’t worry, Spike,” Starlight snorted, “we won’t need to resort to Dr. Chaotica’s death ray.”

The two shared a laugh at that, though it went over every pony else’s heads. Trixie only rolled her eyes and muttered something about “nerds”; Twilight and Fluttershy exchanged confused expressions, unfamiliar with comic books. The train arrived as their laughter died out. They both looked wistfully at the train, then back at Twilight, as if for approval.

“Go,” the Princess mouthed, smiling through her tears.

Starlight and Spike dropped their bags and ran towards Twilight, startling her with a group hug. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden movement, and at the fact both were crying.

“I-I’ll miss you, Twi!” Spike sniffed.

“Thank you,” Starlight murmured, “for everything.”

“Geeze, calm down!” Twilight found it hard to maintain her laity, her voice cracking with emotion, “It’s not like you’re going to war.”

“I-I’ll write you every day!” Spike promised.

“Me too!” Starlight said.

Both looked back at the magician who only sighed.

“Fine,” she said, “Trixie will write, too.”

“That’s very thoughtful!” Twilight scrubbed at her eyes with a wing, “Once a week would probably be better, though I would love to get letters daily.”

The pair dried their eyes and resumed their position to board the train, sparing another look back at Twilight. Trixie, too, spared a sad look at the Princess, but once Twilight caught her, she merely turned around, flustered.

“Remember to behave!” Twilight called after them as they boarded, “And don’t freak out at how much you have to read! And remember to wash behind your spines, Spike! I’ll know!”

“Okay!” Spike chuckled out of the window as the train blew its whistle and started pulling out, “Twilight!”

“Yes, Spike?” the alicorn found herself trotting alongside the train as it picked up speed.

“I…” the dragon looked conflicted, wondering how to say what was his on his mind. Seeing them running out of platform, he blurted, “I love you… mom!”

Twilight’s eyes widened again and she stopped at the platform’s edge, watching the train disappear, her friends waving out of the windows. Twilight was all but sobbing, watching them go, scrubbing at her eyes furiously and trying to control her breathing. Fluttershy stood beside her and wrapped an encouraging wing around her shoulders.

“It’s alright, Twilight,” the pegasus said, gently, “I won’t tell any pony about you crying; you just let it all out.” After the alicorn finished, hiccupping and sniffling, the pegasus asked, “Would you like some ice cream?”

“Y-” Twilight hiccoughed as she tried to get her breathing back to normal, “Yes, please.”

Meanwhile on the train, Spike was groaning into his hands. How embarrassing.

“Relax, Spike,” Starlight rubbed his shoulder, “That was really sweet.”

“Positively adorbs, actually,” Trixie agreed, sifting through the trail mix, “No peanuts?”

“She didn’t say anything back,” Spike sighed, “I just made everything super-awkward!”

“Believe me, Spike,” Starlight giggled, looking back at the distant train station, “She feels the same way.”


…


Celestia entered the room set aside for studying to check in on her students’ progress between her duties. She had passed out earlier than usual the night before and felt as if she had forgotten something important, but it was already nearing lunchtime and no pony had informed her of a crisis. Entering the room, she smiled at the sight of her students working together in an impromptu study session.

“Hold on, I thought Starswirl’s Theory of Cordiality was the precursor for his Tenets of Politeness?” Flim asked, nibbling on his quill as he looked at his notes.

“You’re confusing his Theory of Cordiality with his Theory of Tactfulness,” Sweetie Belle said, absently, levitating a cup of coffee to her mouth. She already had bags under her eyes, just like all the others… except one.

“You know; I’m seeing a lot of Starswirl’s philosophy in Flint Lock’s A Practical Practice, and in Iron Cross’ Doctrine of the Crown,” Apple Bloom said, sifting through four open books at once, “Even Starlight’s Manifesto has some of his teachings – namely the Equine Equality subsection of his Tenets of Politeness.”

The others glared at her, but Celestia smiled in approval. Apple Bloom was as studious as Twilight, putting all her impressive energy into studying for both courses, simultaneously. Eying the page the farm-filly was currently at, Celestia was impressed that far more than the daily sixty pages had been read.

“How goes the studying, my little ponies?” the Princess of the Day asked.

“Well, we finally got through the sixty pages,” Flim said, “but we’ve been up since dawn…”

“…and our notes don’t make much sense,” Flam sighed, “How many theories did Starswirl have?”

“Twenty-seven,” Celestia and Apple Bloom answered, simultaneously, surprising each other.

“I might have to drop Luna’s political course,” Sweetie Belle sighed, “I like her, but the subject doesn’t interest me… plus, it’s a lot of extra reading.”

“Yeah, me too…” Scootaloo confessed, “We shouldn’t feel bad, though; Spike, Starlight, and Trixie will be here tonight, and Starlight’s definitely taking her course.”

“I fear she will still take it poorly,” Celestia frowned, “You will attend her weekly courses, though, yes?”

“Absolutely!” Scootaloo beamed, “I can’t wait for the chivalry one, and that’s tomorrow!”

“I’ll definitely take the magic course,” Sweetie Belle agreed, “but it’s only offered on Monday, since that’s when her power’s strongest, or something. She has an ancient lore course, too, and that one is this Friday.”

“I’m interested in the Old Ponish and ancient lore courses, myself,” Apple Bloom said, eyes still scanning the books, “I’d also take the chivalry one, but I think I might be overdoing it.”

“You think?” Scootaloo deadpanned.

“Anyway, the Old Ponish course is tonight,” Apple Bloom ignored her friend’s sarcasm, “I think understanding Old Ponish will help me better grasp the ancient lore, which in-turn would help me better understand some of Starswirl’s more difficult concepts.”

“Very astute…” Celestia mumbled to herself, “Has she always been so eager to learn?”

“Her interests have been pretty varied,” Sweetie explained, “She’s a skilled carpenter with an interest in potion-brewing and dance. I’m not surprised she likes to study.”

“Yeah,” Scootaloo agreed, “Carpentry, brewing, and dance all require a lot of study and practice, and usually very rigid patterns.”

“I thought dance was supposed to be expressive and fluid, not rigid?” Celestia wondered.

“They never said I was good at it,” Apple Bloom snorted.

“Well, I have it on good authority that your apothecary skills are excellent,” Celestia smirked at the abashed twins, “You two might consider taking a few weekly courses, too.”

“Hmm…” Flim rubbed his chin, “One has caught my eye…”

“Mine too, brother,” Flam agreed, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Chivalry!” Flim cried at the same time Flam said “Old Ponish!”

Surprised at each other, they both cried, “What?!”

“How could you not be interested in chivalry?” Flam exaggerated the offense, “Imagine us acting as nobles, carrying ourselves with the grace and charisma of royalty! And we’d get to learn martial combat, too!”

“Oh, you’re only interested in that course to impress mares!” Flim scoffed, “We don’t need to be knighted just to be charismatic! Knowing Old Ponish would be far more useful. Imagine the relics we could study, the books we could translate (and sell)! We’d be like Daring Do!”

“Knights!” Flam growled.

“Daring Do!” Flim growled back.

“I had no idea you two wanted to be adventurers,” Celestia’s eyes widened at the thought. An image of Flam in a suit of armor came, unbidden, to her mind, and she banished it. She was over that, wasn’t she?

“What?” the twins looked horrified as Flam spoke, “No, ma’am! Adventures are dangerous and unpleasant.”

“We could die!” Flim added.

“So heroic…” Celestia murmured.

“Why don’t you take both?” Apple Bloom suggested.

“It’s so much work, though…” Flim groaned.

“You two can handle it,” Apple Bloom beamed at them, “I thought we agreed you shouldn’t sell yourselves short.”

“D’aw,” Celestia tilted her head, “I’ll leave you five to your studies, then. Oh, and Flim, Flam?”

“Yes?” the twins answered.

“I hear mares, even today, are enamored with knights,” the Princess said, “and there are plenty of mares who still swoon to Old Ponish poetry, even if they can’t understand what’s being said. If your interest was getting a certain farmer’s attention, or… maybe some pony else.”

With that, she left. The two twins had their mouths firmly closed, sweating slightly.

“Both it is!” Flam declared.

“Wise decision, brother!” Flim agreed.

Apple Bloom rolled her eyes as she saw the twins dive back into their books with renewed vigor.


…


It took extreme effort not to get angry at the proceedings. News of the rift between city-states had spread beyond leadership. The main chamber was filled with arguing stallions and mares, representatives from both within and without Equestria, demanding something be done. Celestia’s efforts to remind them the city-states had a right to determine their own government was drowned out by their bickering. Worse, members of the Royal Guard had clustered into their own groups, based on the region of their birth and upbringing, glaring at one another.

Disharmony within her own castle? Celestia was not pleased.

“Enough!” she declared, frustrated at having to use the Royal Voice just to be heard. The bickering silenced rapidly as her subjects turned towards her. “We have been united for over one thousand years. Why is it that all of you suddenly wish to throw that away over something as trivial as politics?”

“Trivial?” a republican representative gaped, “Is it not in your teachings that ponies are supposed to be treated with love, kindness, and respect?”

“Yes, every pony knows this!” Celestia snapped, then muttered, “At least, I had hoped every pony knew this…”

“The democratic system is the only way to ensure fairness amongst ponies of all classes,” the representative continued, earning cheers of approval from the other republicans, including some of the Guard, “By giving even the poorest ponies a say in government, are we not giving them the respect they deserve? Is it not kind and loving?”

“I suppose next you’ll want the wealthy ponies to give up their land and fortunes to bring equality to subjects?” the Germane representative sneered, “Equality is a cancer, and there is no mention of it in Celestia’s teachings!”

“There are ample references to it!” the Marexican representative spoke up, “Besides, one does not need to redistribute resources; merely to offer equal opportunity!”

“I don’t know,” another representative spoke up, “redistribution would go a long way… An unfair amount of power is held by the wealthy, and it interferes with our democratic model…”

“See?!” the Germane said, “Even within their own camp they are in disagreement! Within our ancient and sacred system, we are united! For the glory of Celestia and the crown!”

The other conservative city-state representatives cheered, repeating the mantra.

“Perhaps my hooves-off approach to governing isn’t working out as well as I thought it would…” Celestia admitted to herself, drawing the attention of the crowd again.

“All the more reason for you to bind us under a single system, Your Majesty,” the Germane bowed, prompting the others to bow, though the republican representatives did so with hesitation.

Celestia looked at the crowd of representatives before her, one for nearly every pony city-state in Equestria and several beyond its borders. They were calling for unity, and was that a call she could deny? Democratic city-states were commonplace, but imperial city-states were far older. Binding the ponies together under one nation was problematic in that forcing them to adhere to one body politic rather than another would seriously damage the city-states of the losing philosophy. Conversely, letting them continue the practice of operating under different constitutions was just as problematic, since that was what was causing the disharmony in the first place. Practically, for a unified pony nation, there needed to be a universal political system governing laws and protecting standard rights across its entire length; allowing each city-state to have varying laws wouldn’t make them any more of a nation than they already were.

“I suppose…” Celestia began but was distracted by a yawn.

“Sister?” Luna asked as she entered the hall, drawing eyes from the gathered ponies, “What is happening?”

“Remember that problem I mentioned last night?” Celestia sighed, remembering what had been bothering her this morning, “Surprise…”

“Whatever is the matter, subjects?” Luna asked, doing her best to sound sympathetic. She lacked the warm charisma of Celestia, but that didn’t make her concern any less genuine.

“We need to unite as a single pony nation!” the Germane declared, “In order to defend ourselves from the military alliance of those non-ponies!”

“Our problem stems from the fact we cannot determine which system to operate by,” the Marexican stated, “A great many of our city-states, especially within Equestria, have more democratic forms of government, but these backwater holdouts from outside Equestria want us to adopt their form of feudal oppression.”

“Canterlot is one of those backwaters, wench…” the Germane warned and the two glared at one another.

“The republican city-states are the more numerous, are they not?” Luna frowned at the ‘military alliance’ bit; what had she missed? “Should we not adopt the majority?”

“There may be more of their city-states, especially within Equestria’s borders,” the Germane confessed, “but our city-states are far older and far larger. I would say our populations are about even. Besides, we are not a democracy! We all defer to the Princess!” The Germane blinked before adding “…es.”

“Indeed…” Luna mused, eying her sister, “What were you about to say, before I arrived? It seemed like you had reached a decision on how best to unite the ponies.”

“It’s not even three yet, Luna,” Celestia noted, motherly concern in her voice, “Shouldn’t you be resting?”

“Your decision, sister?” Luna asked, a little hardness in her voice. In truth, the volume of the bickering and ripped her from her dreams.

“I… thought the obvious solution was to bind Equestria under the model of Canterlot,” Celestia admitted, feeling tension building. Between Luna’s lack of sleep and fondness for democracy, this wasn’t going to end well if the Princess of the Day lost her tact.

“The authoritarian model, then,” Luna snorted, earning murmurs of agreement from the republican representatives, “I do not agree. Ponies should be given greater freedoms and more equal opportunity in government and careers – not born into their station.”

“Oh, like you’d just hand over your title as Princess!” Celestia rolled her eyes, losing her cool at her sister’s churlish behavior.

“Absolutely,” Luna said, startling those gathered, “It is not as if I would forsake the duties that come with my powers; I’d merely be handing over the right to rule from myself to our subjects.”

The republican city-state representatives entered a frenzy of excited murmurs as the imperialists only looked on, horrified. A Princess? Forsaking her divine right to rule so commoners could run the nation? The idea was absurd and offensive. It had never been done before because it was never really needed.

“Sister, I think this is best discussed in private,” Celestia said, trying to recover her poise after her outburst, but now stunned by Luna’s admission. Surely the Princess of the Night was lying. “Alicorns are designated as rulers; that’s simply the way of things. We are given incredible power over aspects that control every living creature in the world.”

“So we should rule the world, then?” Luna asked, haughtily.

“That’s not what I… where is this coming from, all of a sudden?” Celestia demanded.

“You neglected to mention that restructuring Equestria’s government was an issue,” Luna snapped, “I only found out because I happened to be woken up! Is this what happens during my sleep? The true governance of Equestria?”

“I…” Celestia found her eyes wandering over the divided ponies, each watching with the blank-faced attention of professional politicians not wanting to give up their true intentions, “Sister, I know you have a fascination with democracy, and on a local level it works fine, but if we’re going to nationalize, we cannot be bound by democratic institutions that take power from us. For Equestria’s security, the Alicorn Princesses must rule.”

“Hear! Hear!” the Germane said and his comrades cheered.

“Please excuse me for being so bold, Princess Celestia,” the Marexican bowed, “but is this not a co-regency, as you said? Should it not be agreed upon by your sister, as well?”

Celestia narrowed her eyes. Of course now they’d choose to recognize Luna as an equal.

“Very well,” Celestia sighed, “we shall discuss this in more detail later, Luna. Tonight, between the classes.”

“So be it,” Luna nodded agreement. As she turned to leave, she stopped and turned back, addressing the ponies before her. “Remember the lesson I have learned the hard way, however, my fellow Equestrians... even a Princess is susceptible to corruption.”

And with that she returned to her bedchamber, leaving a room of murmuring politicians and a stunned sister behind. The Royal Guard who were supporting the republican city-states seemed to be discussing something with excitement, but the Princess of the Day couldn’t hear them. With the assembly clearly over, the representatives filed out, eyeing members of the other faction, bitterly. Left alone, Celestia slumped in her chair, wanting to weep.

There was division in her own utopia of harmony.


…


Hours later, after their class ended promptly at 6:00, the students were informed by Gutsy Gust that the Princesses were otherwise detained by other responsibilities and could not join them for their usual pancake dinner. Instead, he informed them, they would have to get their dinner from the mess hall, where the Royal Guard and servants usually ate.

“Princess Celestia ordered me to let you know you would not be alone, however,” the pegasus informed them, wearing his golden armor, “Starlight Glimmer, Trixie Lulamoon, and Spike the Dragon arrived a few minutes before your class let out. Big Macintosh is keeping them company in the mess hall.”

“Ooo,” Scootaloo smirked, “Let’s go, ladies; your favorite dragon, awaits.”

“Scootaloo, I swear…” Apple Bloom blushed.

“Oh, lighten up,” the pegasus filly giggled, leading the way, “I know it’s just a crush, and I’m not stupid enough to tease you in front of him. We’re all just here to study, anyway.”

They trotted into the mess hall, easily finding their friends. Big Mac’s red coat, along with Spike being the only dragon, made them stand out amidst all the drab-colored guards in gold armor. The newcomers waved them over, and soon the two parties had merged at a table, an odd mix of stallions, mares, fillies, and a drake.

“Trixie wondered where you two disappeared to,” the magician eyed the two former swindlers, “Last she saw you, you two were swooning over the farmer. Trixie does not understand why every stallion goes after her.”

“Jealous?” Big Mac asked.

“Perhaps if her suitors were not so…” Trixie reexamined the twins, failing to keep a grimace from her face, “…unique.”

“Well, you’re no peach yourself,” Flim shot back.

“Or apple, dear brother,” Flam added and the pair chortled at the bad joke.

“Are you still trying to date my sister?” Big Mac asked, a powerful, unspoken threat in his bearing.

“Uh…” Flim paled considerably, deciding to deflect the question, “Flam here is more into alicorns these days.”

“Exact-” the mustachioed twin shook his head, “Don’t start spreading that around! I’d have better luck dating rocks!”

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” Starlight winked, earning worried looks from her friends, “Uh… Maud and Boulder seem quite happy.”

“Boulder is just a friend, Starlight,” Trixie scoffed, “Even Trixie knew this…”

“Anyway, is the political course fun?” Starlight decided to change the subject, “I’ve been dying to take it!”

“Apple Bloom loves it,” Scootaloo sighed, “Sweetie and I are probably going to drop it, but we’re taking some of Luna’s other courses.”

“Oh, it’ll just be me and Apple Bloom?” Starlight frowned, “Poor Luna… She’ll probably feel hurt.”

“Well, since I’m not really taking any courses, I guess I could take the political science course…” Spike sighed in defeat, “Is it easy?”

“It’s easier than our friendship ethics course, that’s for sure…” Sweetie grumbled.

“All we have to do is read three short books and think about them, really,” Apple Bloom explained, “Luna also likes to have political discussions.”

“Ooo! A dialogue!” Starlight got misty-eyed, “It’s everything I could have wished for!”

“It should be even easier for you, Starlight,” Scootaloo giggled, “Your book is one of the three Luna assigned.”

“Oh…” Starlight blushed, embarrassed, “So… you’ve read it, then.”

“Most of it,” Apple Bloom nodded, “It seems to deal almost exclusively with Cutie Marks and equality; there doesn’t seem like much of a political framework.”

“Yeah…” Starlight eyed the farm filly, suspiciously, “Well, it was more an amendment to the existing Equestrian government. I got the ideas for equality from Scarlet Banner’s old work, but I only had access to an abridged version. Really, I kind of threw most of her ideas out the window and just clung to the equality arguments, and the unfairness of job placement.”

“Scarlet Banner?” Apple Bloom asked.

“An old radical,” Starlight smirked, pleased the filly still had some stuff to learn, “Maybe if we ask, Luna will assign some of her works, too.”

“It’s the second day of class and you want Princess Luna to assign more work?” Spike deadpanned, “You’re not making this any easier for me to enjoy…”

“Oh, I’m sure a smart dragon like you can manage a few books,” Starlight said in a very complimentary tone, flicking the spines on his head, “After all, you were the assistant to the Princess of Books, herself.”

“That’s what we call Twilight,” Trixie explained with a smirk.

Apple Bloom didn’t hear the blue unicorn, too intent on watching Starlight and Spike. It was small, but to the mind of some pony with a crush, even small signs were obvious. The playful flick, the admiring tone, the demure eyes and affectionate smile. Okay, so maybe her crush on Spike was obscuring the facts, but he had definitely blushed. Was there something going on there? Shaking her head, she felt silly for over-thinking it; like Scootaloo said, they were all there to study.

“W-well, I guess four books isn’t that bad…” Spike chuckled, “I’m actually a quick reader; sort of have to be when I write so many letters.”

“Say, where is Princess Luna, anyway?” Trixie asked, “It’s almost time for her class, isn’t it?”

“We usually just meet her there,” Sweetie Belle explained, “You guys can go ahead; Scoots and I are sitting this one out.”

“The Compendium of Compassion is a pretty long read,” Apple Bloom giggled, leading her fellow night students to the class…


…


Immediately after Celestia’s class had ended, however, the Princesses of Day and Night had met in their private study. They sat upon their smaller, more comfortable thrones, and glared at one another in consternation. Silence stretched between them, as each tried to outwait the other. Ultimately, seeing their time slipping, Celestia made to speak first, only to be cut off by Luna.

“Why are all the matters of governance left to you, sister?” she asked, quietly.

“We were going to discuss this…” the older sister replied, evenly.

“Really?” Luna raised a poignant eyebrow, “It seems like you already had an answer.”

“Lulu, surely you don’t really believe the average pony is capable of overseeing an empire?”

“No, I don’t believe any pony can maintain an empire single-hoofed,” Luna replied, “but I do believe allowing ponies greater autonomy will make them happier.”

“You wouldn’t seriously relinquish control to them…” Celestia said.

“Do we not already do that?” Luna asked, “What is the difference between your hooves-off approach and allowing them to run themselves, other than the fact you still have the option to control them directly?”

“Luna, don’t be absurd, I would never do that,” Celestia tsked.

“Is that not what unifying them under an imperial system will do?”

“Not necessarily,” the Princess of the Day tried to smile, “The constitution I have in mind will allow the individual city-states the same degree of autonomy. It will be virtually the same system, but they will be ‘united’ as a single nation.”

“A constitution has already been selected?” Luna scowled, standing to pace, “I’m curious, sister, what exactly is there left to discuss?”

“Lulu, please relax,” Celestia felt herself losing her temper, “You’re acting like a petulant child. I know you would not relinquish authority to common ponies. It’s not in your nature to-”

“My nature?” Luna rounded on her sister, bewildered, “You think I will not relinquish power? Why? Because a thousand years ago I was ensnared in the belief I could be the sole ruler of Equestria? It is precisely because I lost control all those centuries ago that I would gladly relinquish my station!”

Luna approached an increasingly stunned and agitated Celestia, glaring down on her with skepticism.

“I’m now forced to wonder why you would hang on to that authority…” Luna mused aloud, “You detest the royal duties, and you have shown you care neither for battle nor direct rule. Why are you clinging to the title of Princess when it holds no interest?”

“It is our birthright,” Celestia stood, staring down at Luna, fiercely, “I cannot forsake my responsibilities to our subjects just because I hate the bickering of politicians! We must defend them, and we must be united, especially in the face of this supposed military alliance.”

“We can protect them without ruling them,” Luna retorted, “and we can unite them in a progressive system that best embodies your teachings. This is an opportunity to liberate every mare, stallion, and foal.”

“I always thought you favored our archaic customs, Luna…” Celestia wasn’t sure how she liked being less progressive than Luna all of a sudden.

“Certain elements, yes,” Luna sighed, “but two years of living in this new age have shown me the cost of a thousand years of ruling in the old way. Dreams are different than they used to be; our subjects call out for freedom and progress, yet are bound in traditions they don’t understand. Things were different a thousand years ago, but the dangers of our past have come and gone.”

“I cannot concede in this, Luna,” Celestia said, quietly.

“Allow me to compose an alternative constitution,” Luna said, a slight desperation in her voice, “I’m sure we can reach a compromise, something that would appeal to all sides.”

“Democratization would raise problems in the imperial city-states.”

“They have declared loyalty to us, sister,” Luna argued, “they will accept whatever you decree.”

Celestia eyed the younger alicorn with sadness, then looked away.

“I will allow you until the 28th to compose an alternative constitution…” she conceded, “If it looks promising, we can explore it further.”

“That is not much time…” Luna gaped.

“It is all I can offer,” Celestia sighed, “These ponies are crying out for unity and are fearful of the non-pony alliance. They are calling themselves the Orduud.”

“Hmm, Old Yakish…” Luna noted, “I believe there was an account of an ancient war between the ponies and the yaks, and that is what they called themselves then.”

“It does not bode well,” Celestia nodded, “Our subjects will go into a panic if we do not act quickly, and that panic will disrupt any attempt at a peaceful resolution. If we adopt the model of direct rule, I could also implement a stricter education of my teachings to the city-states so they don’t embarrass us at a Friendship Summit, again.”

“Do not jump ahead too soon, sister,” Luna said, quickly, “I will come up with something before the month is out. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a class to teach.”

They said their goodbyes, though colder than usual, and the Princess of the Night made her way to the classroom. Celestia was afraid to relinquish power, even though she rarely exercised it. Luna felt herself shiver at the realization; had she not been so defensive of her own power not too long ago? Luna had changed much in two years, dropping the Royal We and many other archaic traits and practices, studying and adopting elements of the new age she had come into. Was it possible that Celestia had changed, too? The dusky alicorn fearfully pondered this as she strolled into the class, a mixture of pleasure and disappointment filling her. Starlight, Spike, and Trixie had joined Apple Bloom, but it looked as if Sweetie Belle and Scootaloo had dropped the class.

“Good evening, my little ponies,” Luna greeted them in the traditional style, “I see we have some new faces here, and I have enough books set up for each of you.”

The Princess levitated the spare copies from where she had stored them earlier, placing one copy of each book before the newcomers.

“Princess Luna?” Starlight said, catching her attention, “We were wondering if you could also assign one of Scarlet Banner’s old books – preferably unabridged, of course.”

“Absolutely, Starlight,” Luna smiled, pleased to see she had at least two eager students, even while Trixie and Spike groaned, “For the next week and a half, however, we’re going to do a little… project.”

“Project?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Yes,” Luna smiled, pleased with her idea, “You shall help me create a draft for a new constitution of Equestria – a republican model.”

“Whoa, what?” Starlight gaped, “You want us to help you create an entire constitution in a week and a half?!”

“Not from scratch, and I will be doing most of the work,” Luna assured them with a giggle, “Our first discussion, then, will be which republican city-state’s constitution to build off of. Shall we begin?”

A brief exchange of curious looks occurred between the students before they began nodding, one-by-one.

“Excellent,” Luna said, a smile on her lips that didn’t quite reach her cold eyes.
> 13
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


13


“This isn’t exactly as fun as I thought it would be,” Rarity confessed with a sigh.

“I think there’s a reason we don’t usually hang out,” Rainbow agreed.

Their attempt to spend one of their free days at the spa together had proven a failure. Rarity couldn’t quite bring herself to apologize to Fluttershy for the “Monday Fiasco” as they had silently agreed to call it, and without her favorite spa partner, Rarity had to talk Rainbow Dash into a pampering. The sporty pegasus proved nearly as hard to convince as Applejack, but Rarity wasn’t on speaking terms with the farmer, either. After twenty minutes of pampering in awkward silence, the pair realized that – out of all their friends – they probably hung out the least. Neither could think of a thing to talk about.

“I miss Fluttershy and Applejack…” they muttered in tandem, startling the other and blushing in embarrassment.

“Perhaps we should try apologizing again,” Rarity suggested.

“Why bother?” Rainbow sighed, “One of us is just going to say something to upset them again. I mean, sure we could apologize for supporting the current system – which we shouldn’t – but neither of us our liars; we’ll just let it slip at some point or another that we haven’t changed our minds. Then they’ll just get worked up again!”

“There are other systems?” Aloe asked after finishing washing Rainbow’s mane. The pegasus blinked, having forgotten the spa ponies.

“I have a friend from out of town,” Lotus Blossom said, “She comes from a town where they elect their leaders. Isn’t that something?”

“Wait, so we can choose a leader other than Mayor Mare?” Aloe’s eyes widened.

“Oh, no!” Lotus laughed, “Ponyville isn’t like that; Mayor Mare has been in office almost forever and above her is Princess Twilight! We can’t elect leaders.”

“Exactly!” Rainbow Dash said.

“I recall hearing that some towns let the towns-ponies vote on issues,” Bulk Biceps rubbed his chin, joining in on the conversation, “That might be a good idea.”

“Well, we can’t let just any pony vote on decisions that could affect the whole town,” Lotus said.

“Why not?” Aloe demanded, “If every pony is affected by the decision, shouldn’t they have a say?”

Rarity and Rainbow sank into their seats as the spa ponies argued more heatedly, drawing in the opinions of the other customers until the peaceful spa became a tumultuous riot of political debate. Hearing the arguments that they themselves had made, the unicorn and pegasus cringed; they did sound pretty intolerant, suggesting certain ponies had more rights than others. Had they sounded like that? How degrading…

“What have we done?” Rarity asked Rainbow as one pony pounced at another.

The first blow thrown, the others joined in on one side or the other. Wide-eyed, Rainbow and Rarity snuck out of the spa and into the growing crowd outside, all watching curiously. Among them was a tired Applejack toting a cart of apples for sale. She blockaded the escape of her departing friends, forcing Rainbow to glide over the cart and loop around.

“What the hay is going on in there?” the farmer demanded.

“Oh, some silly political dispute!” Rarity said, dismissively, unwilling to look at the farmer.

“You two opened your mouths again, didn’t you?” Applejack smirked. To show there was no malice in it, she offered both of them a free apple.

“Well…” Rainbow grimaced, choosing to bite into the apple to avoid answering.

“We… were actually discussing apologizing to you, Fluttershy, and Pinkie Pie, actually,” Rarity explained, still avoiding eye contact.

“Oh,” Applejack’s smirk faded. She forced a smile on her face. “It’s alright; y’all don’t need to apologize.”

“I’m not going to apologize for believing what I believe,” Rainbow sighed, “I believe in the system as it is – Element of Loyalty, and all – but I will apologize for hurting you. It’s an unfair system, and I don’t want you to think that we think you’re… not valuable. To us.”

Rainbow Dash winced at how that sounded. So cheesy and uncool… Maybe she could Sonic Rainboom out of there…?

“I’m sorry, too,” Applejack sighed.

“What in Equestria are you sorry for?” Rarity’s eyes bulged.

“Thinking so poorly of you two,” the farmer confessed, “I should have known better than to assume you two meant any ill by it.”

“Yeah, you were being a little judgmental…” Rainbow said, earning a ‘ladylike’ elbow to the ribs that stole the breath from her lungs, “but, uh, so were we.”

“Tell you what,” the farmer chuckled, “I’m about to unload these apples at Filthy Rich’s store. After that, why don’t we meet up with the others and try and find something to do while the spa calms down?”

“Something, huh?” Rainbow raised an eyebrow.

“Been awhile since we’ve had a race…” Applejack suggested, earning a grin from the pegasus.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” she asked, “Let’s get those apples delivered!”

The trio walked away, their spirits on the mend. Rarity spared a look over her shoulder as the arguments boiled over into the streets and the towns-ponies split into groups. Surely this would all blow over…


…


“You guys look awful,” Apple Bloom frowned at the twins at the group study session. Big Mac had taken to joining their group, using Spike’s presence as an excuse to be more direct in his protection.

“The Old Ponish class ran later than we thought…” Flam confessed. Despite his exhaustion, him and Flim had made considerable progress in their studies, keeping pace with the fillies in their readings.

“Soon we’ll be able to win over any mare with classical poetry, brother,” Flim chortled, then paled at a looming Big Mac, “…I mean, soon we’ll be respectable and educated stallions who mares may or may not find attractive.”

“I doubt it,” the red stallion rumbled.

“You should take a night class, Big Macintosh,” Apple Bloom suggested, earning a bewildered look, “I mean, you’re pretty honorable and protective… You should take Luna’s chivalry course.”

“Yeah, that’d be awesome!” Spike agreed, “Think about it; the two of us training as knights by Luna, herself! She slays monsters all the time!”

“The three of us,” Scootaloo corrected, “Don’t forget about me.”

“Or us,” the twins said.

“Are you two going to jump in on that, too?” Sweetie asked Trixie and Starlight.

“Trixie only came for the magic course,” the magician sighed, tossing a copy of one of the political manifestos aside, “She’s tried the politics thing; it’s very boring.”

“It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet!” Starlight pointed out.

“Trixie is just as surprised as you!” the magician confessed, “She thought she’d last at least a week, but alas, it was too boring.”

“What about you, Starlight?” Scootaloo asked, preventing the pink unicorn from retorting, “Are you going to take the chivalry course? It’s tonight!”

“Well, that does sound pretty fun, but…” Starlight shrugged, “I’m more of a sorceress or warlock than a paladin.”

“…What?” Sweetie tilted her head.

“I’m a studious spell caster,” Starlight explained, “not a swords-pony.”

“I guess I’ll be the only girl, then,” Scootaloo sighed before seeing Spike standing next to her, “Spike, have you gotten taller?”

“You know, I couldn’t really tell,” the dragon smirked, “but standing next to you fillies, it’s starting to show.”

“Actually, it looks like you’ve grown since we’ve left the castle,” Starlight said, doing a quick measuring of Spike, “If this keeps up you’ll be taller than Celestia in a month!”

“That’s a lot of dragon,” Scootaloo shot her friends a mischievous grin.

“Sure is,” Starlight said before Apple Bloom or Sweetie Belle could retort, surprising the fillies. Even Big Mac raised a questioning eyebrow, but from what little time he’d spent with Starlight, he knew she made odd jokes. Her cheeks flushed as she realized nearly every pony was eying her. “Anyway, has every pony written their letters home?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac nodded, the others nodding agreement – all but Flim and Flam, naturally.

“Good!” Starlight beamed, “We can send them this Saturday after we’re done with our weekly classes, just in case something interesting happens.”

“If only I understood how I send letters,” Spike grumbled, “then we wouldn’t have to wait.”

“Have you tried asking Princess Celestia?” Scootaloo asked, “I mean, she is the one who, uh…”

The pegasus fell silent, not exactly sure how to word it. Acquired? Purchased? The fact Spike’s birth had seen him as a piece of property was a thoroughly awkward point, but the dragon only nodded at the idea.

“She should know,” Spike agreed, “I mean, if Twilight didn’t.”

“You could always try asking Princess Luna, too,” Sweetie Belle suggested, “She’s very knowledgeable on…”

Again an awkward silence. Sweetie winced at the fact she had almost said “monsters”. Dragons were an ancient enemy of the ponies, one that had been feared and treated as beasts in the past. This time, Spike grimaced while he nodded.

“Alright, I’ll ask her, too,” Spike sighed.

“So…” Starlight broke the awkward silence settling in, “Guy’s Night is Saturday, right?”

“Eeyup,” Big Mac cleared his throat.

“Ooo, a Guy’s Night?” Flim rubbed his chin, “Am I to understand this is a soiree filled with masculine antics and debauchery?”

“Uh… something like that?” Spike chuckled.

“We play a board game,” Scootaloo smirked at the others’ consternation, “What? Oh come on, you didn’t really think it was a secret, did you?”

“It really wasn’t,” Starlight whispered to Spike.

“I know, but it’s the spirit of the tradition!” the dragon groaned, “And Ogres and Oubliettes is not a ‘board game’; it is a sophisticated and in-depth tabletop role-playing game.”

“Nerds…” Trixie muttered under her breath as she lazily flipped through some of the other books the students had gathered. Some of it wasn’t too boring, but she certainly wasn’t going to take a class over it.

“It’s surprisingly fun, though Sweetie and I rarely join in,” Apple Bloom said, “Rainbow Dash got Scootaloo to try it, and she got us to try it, and well… now there’s something of a secret society in Ponyville.”

“Secret society in…” Flim repeated, shaking his head, “I’d prefer the debauchery, personally.”

“If Discord visits, then you should talk to him,” Spike chuckled, “I’m sure you three would get along great.”

“That’s a horrible idea!” Apple Bloom gaped. The Lord of Chaos and the Flim-Flam Brothers? Hitting the town up?!

“What’s a horrible idea?” Celestia asked, coming in to check on them as she often did between various royal duties.

“Uh… nothing,” the farm-filly said quickly. Fortunately, Celestia seemed pretty distracted.

“Tell me, did Luna talk about her constitutional duties with you last night?” the Princess asked instead, “I’m curious what she might have said…”

“Duties?” Starlight’s eyes widened, “I thought that was just a group project.”

“A group…” Celestia murmured, eyes widening as both her and the unicorn drew the same conclusion, “Luna is having you help her draft the constitution?”

“Whoa, what?” Scootaloo shook her head, “So Equestria’s going to turn into a republic now?”

“Absolutely not!” Celestia decreed, then blushed at her forcefulness, “I mean… I promised her we would discuss it further if she could finish a reasonable constitution by the end of the month.”

“Sounds like you’ve already made up your mind,” Starlight frowned at the alicorn, drawing a glare from the Princess. To her credit, Starlight didn’t even blink in the face of those steely eyes.

“There is a serious harmony emergency running rampant in Equestria right now,” Celestia explained, evenly, “Due to an… altercation at the World Friendship Summit, the non-ponies have formed a military alliance while the republican and imperial pony city-states have begun arguing against one another. Both sides are begging me to unite them under one nation.”

“A single pony nation?” Sweetie Belle asked, “What would that even look like?”

“The same as it is now, essentially,” Celestia smiled, disarmingly, “I planned on adopting the Trottingham constitution; hooves-off governance of the city-states so they can be fairly sovereign, each region governed by royalty, a flexible tax code… It would be the same as it is currently, but we’d have centralized leadership and a more unified community protected by a uniform set of laws.”

“You could have all that under a republican constitution,” Apple Bloom pointed out, “I recommended Appleloosa’s constitution as our template, and it’s pretty similar to the Trottingham one, only leadership is based off of local elections.”

“You can’t elect a pony above a Princess,” Scootaloo snorted at the idea, then frowned, “Wait, can you?”

“The way Princess Luna puts it, it sounds like we can,” Apple Bloom said, “Doesn’t the Trottingham model have two leaders? One for foreign affairs and the other for actual governance?”

“Indeed,” Celestia said, “but the Alicorn Princesses are expected to fill both roles.”

“Twilight delegates governance of Ponyville to Mayor Mare most of the time,” Starlight pointed out.

“Seems like the best way to meet in the middle would be to have the Princesses be in charge of foreign affairs with some kind of veto power,” Apple Bloom thought aloud, “and then us regular ponies could elect leaders to run the government.”

“Good idea, but we can tweak it…” Starlight said, getting closer to the filly and writing down ideas on paper with a quill.

“This is not up for debate!” Celestia said through gritted teeth, “We have decided this matter, already, and it is a decision for royalty. We are the rulers of Equestria, and we will cede power if and when we decide it is time.”

“With all due respect, Princess,” Starlight said, standing defiantly while every pony else slunk back, “if it were decided, why would Luna bother with drafting a constitution? I was under the impression Equestria was a co-regency, and that that meant both of you needed to agree on this?”

Celestia sighed, her anger giving over to weariness. A taut smile adorned her lips as she studied the strong-willed mare before her.

“I am surprised you’ve taken to my sister’s lessons with such gusto, young Starlight,” she said, “Your doctrine is not in line with democratic thought.”

“…I’ve been making amendments,” Starlight murmured.

“Let me pose a hypothetical to each of you,” Celestia said, suddenly, “If you were to become an alicorn – you individually, not as a group – how would you feel that having such power no longer warranted authority? You would be a defender of the realm, by birthright a leader of a portion of Equestria, and because some ponies want to debate over issues that could easily be decided by an educated leader, you have been denied your right to rule. Worse, because of ponies who do not understand the dangers of the world, they have put into place laws that bind you and keep you from using your alicorn powers to defend them from said dangers.”

“That’s pretty presumptuous,” Starlight scowled, “Just because there’s a democratic government doesn’t necessarily mean they’ll keep alicorns from doing their jobs.”

“You’d be surprised what kinds of laws can pass when ponies are in a particular mood,” Celestia said, dryly.

“Well, maybe the regular ponies can defend Equestria,” Scootaloo suggested, “Like the Wonderbolts and the Royal Guard?”

“The Royal Guard defend the Princesses, not Equestria,” the Princess sighed, “There are barely enough to manage the castles as it is, and they haven’t faced a proper threat in ages. As for the Wonderbolts, they do aid with weather disasters, but I doubt they could handle something like a war.”

“So we make an actually military,” Starlight suggested, drawing stunned looks from her friends, “What?”

“A military build-up would not be advisable, given current affairs,” Celestia noted, “How about I pose this another way? Who would be the logical ponies to lead Equestria? Powerful immortals with more than a thousand years of experience as rulers and defenders? Or any pony off the street? If it came down to a vote, how many would elect the Princesses over any other candidate?”

“We’d probably all vote for the Princesses…” Apple Bloom confessed.

“Exactly,” Celestia sighed, sympathetic pain in her eyes, “Turning Equestria into a democracy would be futile, because every pony would ultimately vote for the Princesses. It is, however, a decent way to run local communities. I vow I will not tamper with those that operate by it.” The Princess looked at a clock on the wall, “Oh dear, time to return to the grind… See you later today, my little ponies.”

After Celestia left, the males unwound, feeling the tension in the air evaporate. Spike looked enraptured by Starlight while the stallions only looked horrified. What she had done was borderline insubordination! It took courage, certainly, but Celestia had just roundly pointed out how redundant a democracy was.

“Why am I even taking this class?” Apple Bloom scowled, “Politics is useless; nothing’s gonna change!”

“Don’t be so sure, Apple Bloom,” Starlight narrowed her eyes, still glaring at the doorway Celestia had left through, “Change is the natural inevitability of life; it can’t be denied, and no pony can resist it.”

The unicorn mare allowed herself a bleak grin at her words.

“Not even a Princess.”


…


Dragon Lord Ember sighed, contentedly as she fell backwards onto her favorite basking rock in the Dragon Lands. Finally, the Orduud’s initial meetings had ended and the leaders could return to their homelands, sending various delegates and ambassadors to do the footwork in their steads. Ember curled herself into a loose spiral, letting the volcanic heat seep through the igneous formation and into her scales. Her eyes drifted shut…

“HOW DID IT GO?” a voice like a mountain crumbling snapped her out of her near-nap.

With a sigh, Ember sat up to face her father, the former Dragon Lord, Torch. He was a massive dragon; the largest Ember had ever seen. Legends said there were far older, more ancient dragons deep beneath the ground, that their backs supported the world and they were in a timeless sleep. Supposedly that’s where earthquakes came from – the dragons shifting in their sleep. Of course, those were just old legends.

“How’d what go?” Ember asked.

“THAT SILLY FRIENDSHIP SUMMIT, OF COURSE,” her father growled, “YOU CAME HOME IN A HUFF,ORDERING A BUNCH OF DRAGONS TO OTHER NATIONS. I CAN’T TELL IF THAT’S A GOOD THING OR NOT.”

“The Summit fell apart,” Ember said, “Princess Celestia was the only pony who showed up that respected us; Twilight couldn’t make it, so it was just us against an army of intolerant jerks!”

“AH, SO YOU SENT OUR KIN TO BURN AND PLUNDER!” Torch rumbled with laughter.

“What? No!” Ember snorted at the prospect, “I did think about it, though. No, after the Summit fell apart, us non-ponies – that is, us, the changelings, the yaks, the donkeys, the zebras, the camels, and the griffons – made our own group, called it the Orduud, and now we’re working together. The dragons I sent are going on ambassador missions; we’re going to do military exercises soon.”

“…YOU FORMED A MILITARY ALLIANCE AGAINST THE PONIES?” her father asked after some quiet thinking, “I’M NOT INTO THIS FRIENDSHIP FAD YOU YOUNG DRAKES ARE TRYING, BUT ISN’T THAT THE OPPOSITE OF FRIENDSHIP?”

“Look, just be glad I had a hold on my temper,” Ember groaned, “If I had torched the place – which those pony jerks deserved, frankly – we’d have several armies of ponies up here by now led by four all-powerful alicorns.”

“WE COULD TAKE THEM,” Torch rumbled.

“We shouldn’t have to…” the Dragon Lord mumbled, “Anyway, this military alliance is just to make sure the pony city-states quit expanding into non-pony territories. Before I left, the buffalo tribes and several other groups expressed interest in joining, but only as neutral parties.”

“SO THEY WANT PROTECTION BUT AREN’T WILLING TO HELP US?” Torch snorted, the gesture creating a heated hurricane of soot, “COWARDS.”

“In the case of the buffalos, they’re pretty much surrounded; if we had to fight, the buffalo would be destroyed almost instantly,” Ember explained, “Frankly I’m surprised the zebras and the donkeys aren’t neutral; they’re in just as much risk.”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY YOUR GROUP WAS CALLED?” Torch asked, “THE HAIR DO?”

“The Orduud, dad,” Ember rolled her eyes, “It’s Old Yakish for ‘the Horde’. We wanted the Horde, but apparently that’s copyrighted.”

“HUH,” Torch grunted, thoughtfully.

“What?” his daughter asked, looking up at his wandering expression.

“JUST AN OLD LEGEND MY GRANDFATHER USED TO TELL,” Torch murmured, “IT WAS ANCIENT EVEN WHEN HE WAS YOUNG.”

“Whoa,” Ember’s eyes widened, “What’s it about?”

“I’M NOT THE BEST AT THESE ORAL TRADITION THINGS,” Torch sighed, stretching out alongside his volcano, “THE GIST OF IT WAS THE PONIES WOULD EVENTUALLY EXPAND BEYOND THEIR BORDERS.THEY’D BECOME SO POWERFUL THEY’D TRY AND CONQUER US.IT WAS A PRETTY SILLY STORY, ACTUALLY; THE PONIES? CONQUER US?”

“That is pretty funny,” Ember chuckled at the idea of those squishy, friendship-obsessed creatures conquering anyone, “But what did it have to do with the Orduud?”

“THE LEGEND SPOKE OF A DRAGON, SOMETIMES BORN OUTSIDE THE DRAGON LANDS, SOMETIMES AN ORPHAN…” Torch struggled to remember all the details, “ANYWAY, THE DRAGON WOULD UNITE US, AND IN SOME STORIES OTHER NON-PONIES. THEN THERE’D BE AN EPIC FINAL BATTLE BETWEEN US – THE ‘GREAT HORDE’ – AND THE PONIES.”

“Wow, that’s something,” Ember whistled, “There was more than one version?”

“FROM WHAT MY GRANDFATHER TOLD ME,” Torch rumbled, “THE STORY BECAME PRETTY POPULAR WHEN THOSE ALICORN SISTERS TOOK OVER AND STARTED EXPANDING.SO, NATURALLY, EVERY DRAGON HAD THEIR OWN VERSION OF THE STORY.THE HERO’S GENDER, AGE, WHERE THEY CAME FROM, WHETHER THEY HAD PARENTS… EVERY DRAGON HAD THEIR OWN OPINION.EVEN THE OUTCOME OF THE BATTLE VARIED, BUT THE ‘GREAT HORDE’ AND WHAT THEY CALL THE HERO STAYED THE SAME.”

“So the hero had a name?” Ember asked, her drowsiness forgotten with this tale from her heritage.

“NOT A NAME,” Torch shook his head slowly, “A TITLE. THURDOJUN.”

Ember tilted her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow, “What the heck does that mean?”

“I DON’T KNOW,” Torch shrugged, “IT’S OLD DRACONIC; MINE’S PRETTY RUSTY SINCE EVERYONE USES THE NEW STUFF.IF YOU DON’T KEEP USING IT, YOU LOSE IT, Y’KNOW.”

“I know, dad,” Ember sighed and rolled her eyes, “Maybe I’ll ask one of the Princesses.”

“HOW COULD A PONY KNOW SOMETHING ABOUT US WE DON’T KNOW?” Torch snorted.

“Because they actually write everything down,” Ember laughed, “Unless you know where the legend is carved? And how to read Old Draconic?”

Torch conceded the point with a grunt. “STILL, AREN’T YOU AT WAR WITH THEM?”

“No!” Ember scoffed, “This will all blow over, and soon our groups will probably merge and put this all behind us. Right now, though, things are rough.”

A moment of silence passed between them as they laid side by side next to volcano, watching the layers of red-tinged sulfur clouds pass.

“This Thurdojun…” Ember said, slowly, “he’s an outsider? An orphan?”

“SO ONE LEGEND SAYS,” Torch rumbled, turning to eye his successor, “AND I NEVER SAID THEY WERE A GUY.”

“I only know one dragon that wasn’t born in the Dragon Lands,” Ember said, “It just seems pretty coincidental.”

“YEAH, WELL DON’T PUT A LOT OF STOCK INTO APOCALYPTIC STORIES,” Torch chuckled, “YOU’RE THE DRAGON LORD, NOW. SAVE LOOKING FOR THE THURDOJUN UNTIL AFTER THE PONIES START CONQUERING LANDS.”

Ember shared in her father’s laughter at the idea, but inside she was worried. Saddle Arabia’s expansion into Cameloo, Appleloosa’s seizure of the buffalo lands… and weren’t all the pony lands formerly inhabited by other races? If that wasn’t conquest, what was?


…


Apple Bloom wasn’t sure how she should interpret the classes she was taking anymore. Celestia’s friendship lessons had become more aggressive, her interpretations on Starswirl’s Compendium shifting away from “let bygones be bygones” to “sometimes you have to forcefully help others see the truth”. Flim and Flam took to these lessons with their usual level of enthusiasm, but the Cutie Mark Crusaders occasionally exchanged looks of concern over Celestia’s sudden lack of smiles.

The farm-filly then thought back over the political science class that just ended. Starlight and her had contributed greatly to amending the proposed constitution, especially now that they knew how serious it was. Spike offered a few points on phrasing it so it wasn’t exclusive to ponies, but there were so many allusions to equines that some inevitably slipped through the gaps.

“Does Appleloosa have two leaders?” Luna asked, raising an eyebrow at their suggestion, “Would it not be more efficient to have one overall leader?”

“It would, but checks and balances are pretty important to democratic systems,” Starlight giggled, “You don’t want this to turn into Our Town, right?”

“No, I suppose not,” Luna conceded, “still, I believe one leader would be more efficient. It works for Appleloosa, and I am a firm believer in social contracts. A leader is only a leader so long as she has ponies to lead.”

“And dragons,” Spike added.

“Yes, Spike,” Luna giggled, “We shall keep the single leader, alright?”

“Oh,” Starlight frowned, “I just thought that, since there would be so much work, it would be better to split the office in two…”

“Equestrians are used to a singular ruler,” Luna said, “It is a co-regency, but if it came down to listening to my sister or me, who do you think most ponies would defer to?”

Her students stayed silent.

“We could style the leadership more on Ponyville,” Apple Bloom suggested, “One leader for foreign affairs, the other for domestic, but one has supreme authority over both duties.”

“Which office would that be?” Spike asked.

“Well, the Princesses usually focus on foreign affairs and leave everyday governance to their subjects, so that model should work,” Apple Bloom suggested.

“Two elections for two leaders seems a little redundant,” Luna murmured, “If the foreign affairs office already has overall authority, shouldn’t she also be allowed to appoint the domestic leader?”

“That doesn’t sound very democratic,” Apple Bloom said, “We need a checks and balance system… Oh! How about every city-state elect a representative so they have a voice in government? They can have veto power over the foreign affairs officer’s choice in domestic leader! They can even propose laws and such.”

“That sounds… fair,” Starlight conceded, but was disappointed. The foreign affairs leader still had a lot of power… “We should probably name the offices.”

“Let’s see…” Spike looked through his notes. He didn’t contribute much to the actual discussions, but he was the greatest note-taker and minutes-keeper Luna had ever seen. “There isn’t really a national-level title since there’s never been a nation… you can’t elect Princesses… How about president? Means they ‘preside’ over stuff. Could be a good title.”

“Sounds good,” Apple Bloom agreed, “but for which office?”

“How about we find two titles then decide which fits best,” Starlight suggested, still trying to get over being snubbed.

“Um… premier? Maybe…” Spike thumbed through his notes, “Oh, here’s a good one! Chancellor.”

“Chancellor?” Luna smiled at the title, “That sounds nice, actually. What does that mean?”

“Secretary, I think,” the dragon shrugged.

“If that’s the case, it’s obvious President should be the title for the overall authority office, while Chancellor is the appointed office for domestic affairs,” Luna said.

The others nodded agreement, and Starlight agreed it sounded good. The rest of the meeting had been searching out flaws and trying to tweak them so the constitution could work on a national level. There was still so much to sift through… Could they even finish it by the next Friday? Apple Bloom left the class feeling a different kind of exhausted than usual, surprised to run into Scootaloo.

“Hey every pony – and Spike,” Scootaloo beamed, “You ready for the chivalry class?”

“It’s all I could think about, honestly,” the dragon chuckled, startled when the pegasus put him in a sudden headlock.

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo smirked, “Your reflexes seem a little slow…”

Spike used his newfound reach to wrap his arms around the filly’s torso, lifting her up and falling backward, forcing her to let go with a squeak so she could brace herself for the fall. They hit the tile with an ‘oof!’ and started laughing in a jumble. Scootaloo noticed Starlight and Apple Bloom glaring at her and couldn’t help snickering.

“What’s wrong, ladies?” the pegasus stood up, “Jealous?”

“Jealous?!” the two spluttered, shooting glares at each other as much as at Scootaloo.

“Why would I be jealous of you two acting like goofballs?” Apple Bloom scoffed, “Rolling around on the ground… we’re in a castle, for goodness’ sake!”

“I think you know that’s not exactly what I’m talking about,” the pegasus snorted, wrapping a foreleg around Spike’s neck and bringing him into a friendlier headlock to demonstrate how physically close the two could get without feeling awkward.

“Okay, Scoots, don’t make it weird,” Spike laughed, still not sensing the tension.

“I’m not jealous,” Starlight lied, expertly putting on her most disarming face. It had been a dream, of course. She knew Spike would go with someone closer to his age than her, and honestly wasn’t this better? She should just rip the bandage off sooner rather than later, right? “In fact, I think you two look cute together.”

“What?!” this time Spike and Scootaloo spluttered, shoving away from each other, faces flushed in embarrassment. Their reaction made Starlight smile and even Apple Bloom had to cover her mouth to avoid guffawing.

“You know I like Rumb…” Scootaloo winced, “I mean, let’s go Spike! They’re being weird.”

“Yeah, no joke,” Spike laughed, following Scootaloo. He looked over his shoulder as Starlight departed, feeling his heart sink. When was he going to learn to quit getting his hopes up over fancy unicorn mares? Starlight was so perfect, too… He didn’t even notice Apple Bloom watching him with the same grief he watched Starlight with.

Soon they met the others in a courtyard, and Luna arrived shortly after that, having finished her task of putting class materials away. As with all their courses, it would only take two hours and then they could sleep it off at 8:00PM. With her was an older member of her Royal Guard dragging a cart they couldn’t see the contents of. He was a pegasi, or at least had wings of a sort, though Scootaloo had only seen the like on bats. Jet black coat, glittering, dark-blue eyes, and glinting fangs sent a shiver down the young pegasus’ spine. Were the Night Guard born like that, or was sorcery used to change them?

“Good evening, whelps,” Luna greeted them in a significantly harsher fashion, glaring down at them in contempt that was at odds with the almost-motherly enthusiasm from half an hour ago, “You are here because you wish to be trained in the arts of honorable combat and chivalrous virtues. The training will be grueling, exhausting, and will have to be carried on beyond these weekly sessions. Every day you will meet with Night Bane when you have free time and will train for no less than two hours with him; you will read the works of Equestria’s greatest knights and heroes, and you will show me that you understand the virtues of knighthood; you will be expected to accompany me on nightly runs against the monsters that threaten our lands when I call upon you to do so, no matter the hour. Those of you with weak fortitudes should leave.”

Flim turned to do so and was pulled back by his brother.

“You expect me to help slay a monster?” Scootaloo gaped, feeling a rush of terror. Sure, the idea had flitted through her mind, but it wasn’t like any of them actually expected to use their lessons beyond the classroom.

“I’ll handle this, Your Highness,” the Guard, Night Bane, growled out, approaching Scootaloo. He towered over her and she felt her knees grow weak, sinking lower. “Are you afraid, filly?”

“N-no…” Scootaloo squeaked.

“You don’t sound so sure,” Night Bane cocked his head, smugly, “I’ve heard of you. You’re the protégé to the Element of Loyalty, aren’t you? Rainbow Dash must be dumber than she looks if she’d force a scared little filly under her wing.”

“You take that back!” Scootaloo snapped, her fear overridden by a moment of blind anger, “Rainbow Dash is the coolest, greatest pony in Equestria!”

Night Bane smirked in triumph, looking at his Princess.

“My mistake,” he conceded, “she seems plenty brave to me, shouting defiantly in the face of her instructor like that.”

Scootaloo’s face flushed in embarrassment, but her friends were nodding in approval. Night Bane strolled among the remaining candidates, taking measure of each of them. A curious raised eyebrow at Spike; a dragon knight? That was unusual. Unimpressed looks at the Flim-Flam brothers. He stopped at Big Macintosh and narrowed his eyes at him, secretly pleased at him tensing up.

“The Lady of the Night attended a carnival with you once, did she not, farmer?” Night Bane growled, “They must grow them big and dumb out there for you to pass up making that a regular thing with Her Highness.”

Big Mac gulped, eyes sliding to the cold visage of Princess Luna, a blush creeping across his cheeks.

“Well, they aren’t the worst lot I’ve seen,” the veteran declared as he strolled back to Luna’s side, “I have no doubt we can turn each of them into a proper defender of the realm, provided they put in the effort.”

“I wholeheartedly agree, Night Bane,” Luna nodded, using her magic to levitate items out of the cart. A heavy iron-wrought ball, decorated in spikes and attached to a wooden shaft by a thick chain slammed into the ground, startling the would-be knights. “This,” the Princess said, “is a morning-star.”

“Cool…” Scootaloo’s eyes widened.

“I agree,” Luna allowed herself a small smile before slipping back to her more militant demeanor, “This is my weapon of choice, but each of you might find something else that works for you. Typically, a Royal Guard is expected to be expert in the arts of spear and bow, and sometimes sword, but a knight… this is a far older tradition. You will be expected to master all Equestrian weapon-forms that you are capable of performing.”

“Capable of performing?” Spike repeated, questioningly. He flinched back at the dark glares from the Princess and her assistant.

“I shall tell you this once, squire,” Luna said, “interrupting your instructors is very ill-advised,” Spike gulped and stayed silent, “An answer is, however, in order. You might have noticed that the Royal Guard is made up of predominantly earth ponies and pegasi, but that unicorns have been known to join their ranks. While I by no means want to discourage ponies from trying any and all skills that they can, we can only instruct martial art forms based on common ability. For instance, all three can wield swords and spears well enough, pegasi and earth ponies using their mouths and hooves where a unicorn can use either or their magic. Some weapons, however, are too difficult for any but a unicorn to wield.”

“Or too dangerous,” Night Bane added.

“Quite, though I have seen non-unicorns become experts in even weapons designed exclusively for unicorns,” Luna said, “This morning-star, for instance, is extremely dangerous for one without magic to wield, but it can be done. Even with magic, there is a great risk of striking one’s self with the head. It’s quite painful.”

“You will begin your training with spear and sword,” Night Bane explained, “but in time, you will be allowed to practice with other weapons. Every warrior has their preference, but a true knight must know how to wield anything at their disposal.”

Luna levitated a series of sticks and thick, wooden versions of swords. Flim and Flam took theirs with levitation, while Big Mac and Scootaloo carried theirs in their mouths, holding their heads awkwardly from being unused to the weight. Luna stopped at Spike and furrowed her brow.

“You will be interesting to train…” she confessed, “Ponies learned the art of the sword from griffons, who used their talons to grasp the handles. I imagine you can do the same with your hands, but we cannot teach you any forms.”

“If I may, Your Majesty,” Night Bane said, drawing her attention, “I have studied ancient griffon martial arts manuals on the subject; I believe he can learn the forms from them. Beyond that, the basic principles are the same.”

“Then I will leave the training of Spike’s forms to you, Night Bane,” Luna smiled, but it disappeared when she looked at the recruits, “Now, squires, we shall teach you the basics of weapon safety, then we shall go into your first true chivalry lesson: understanding the nobility.”

The squires exchanged curious expressions, not understanding the connection.

“I see it’s been awhile,” Luna allowed herself a chuckle, “I must confess, it was difficult to find ponies to fill the ranks of my Night Guard. The ancient ways of the warrior have long been forgotten. Since we have so much work to do, and so little time to do it, imitate Night Bane’s stances while I explain.”

Night Bane drew his own sword, which Scootaloo stared at in awe: a deeply curved blade with wide spines along the back, imitating the shape of a bat’s wing. He held it in his mouth, head slightly tilted the opposite way to counter the weight of the blade, his muzzle protected by a guard. Flim, Flam, and Big Mac attempted to draw their blades, but it was slow going and filled with fumbling, their necks unused to reaching back for something at their belts. Scootaloo, naturally dexterous, unsheathed her wooden sword in one go, but struggled to keep the blade aloft due to its immense weight. Night Bane sheathed his own blade and walked amongst them, fixing their postures and explaining how to hold attention to the blade and always watch where it’s pointing, noting that one wrong turn of the head could accidentally spear the pony next to them.

Meanwhile, Luna began her explanation.

“In the days of my youth, before my corruption at the hooves of Nightmare Moon, the Royal Guard was much the same as it is today, but we would have champions among them who were true leaders among warriors,” she said, “They were lords and ladies of the nobility, trained to fight and function independently in the field, unlike the Guard who are expected to fight as a unit. They were of noble blood and were as much general as they were warrior, able to command the Guard in battle. Night Bane is currently one of a handful of my Night Guard that have been trained in such ways, and thus one of the commanders of my force. Celestia also has her own such champions, and you are of course familiar with Shining Armor in the Crystal Empire.”

“Who?” Flim and Flam asked in tandem, voices muffled by the handles in their mouths.

“You will be expected to understand military strategy,” Luna continued as if the twins hadn’t spoken, “I will not train you in the arts of leadership, for being a leader is not something that can be taught so much as learned. Observe your betters, imitate their manners, and in time you might understand how and why we lead. Then you might be a leader.”

“Princess Luna?” Scootaloo asked, her voice also muffled. The Princess raised an eyebrow at her, waiting, so Scootaloo expertly sheathed her sword despite only seeing it done once. “All this talk about nobility and betters… Nobles are born into their families, right?”

“Yes,” Luna nodded, slowly, trying not to smile as Scootaloo asked the questions she wanted the filly to ask.

“If nobles are born, and they’re better, then why are we training?” the pegasus tried to stay firm, but really wished she could rub her foreleg to alieve her anxiety, “I know I’m not in your political class anymore, but you seemed so intent on democracy, which is all about us being equal – I think. I don’t understand how you can follow a system that teaches about birthright while teaching one about every pony being born with the same rights…”

A perfect opening, just as the Princess wanted.

“I was not always so fond of democracy, young squire,” Luna confessed, “It took me some time to adjust to the changes the world had gone through, but when I did, I began to study and embrace them. I found I admired much of democratic thought, but I too realized there was a conflict between my ancient notions of chivalry and my new fondness for democracy, but then I realized something astounding.”

“What?” Scootaloo asked after Luna had paused.

“Many of the noble families are different, now,” Luna explained, “Houses that were, a thousand years ago, the definition of all things noble in Equestria, had been corrupted in my absence and punished with loss of title, while families that were unimpressive or destitute before my banishment have become the masters of great fortunes and power. The Elements of Harmony also opened my eyes, for I saw two earth ponies from agricultural roots, and to middle-class pegasi, rub shoulders with an as-yet-unnoticed unicorn business-mare and a librarian, all of which became the saviors of Equestria. More impressive still, I witnessed that same librarian become an Alicorn Princess.

“I have learned that birthright is meaningless. In the end, true nobility very well might be something you are born with, but it is not inherited. So I have amended the ancient art of chivalry to be more in line with my newfound democratic ideals – any pony can become a knight, provided they show knightly virtues.”

“Aren’t knights supposed to serve lords, though?” Spike asked, holding his sword in a series of stances that Night Bane corrected, working from the Night Guard’s memory of griffon stances, “If we elect our leaders, who would knights serve?”

“An interesting question,” Luna mused, “I had planned for the Royal Guard to become the Republican Guard if we transitioned, and for them to swear oaths of allegiance to the constitution before the leaders. They would still guard the castles and the Princesses, but they would guard the elected leaders as well, and if any leader proved corrupt, they would choose the constitution above the leader. Logically, knights would do the same.”

“Do all knights look the same?” Flim asked, going through stances slowly, in-step with his twin.

“Flim once sold ‘original’ murals from Nippony depicting fancy knights, but they looked a lot different from ours,” Flam added.

“Different city-states have their own takes on knights, and newer ones like Appleloosa don’t have any at all,” Luna explained, “Nippony is one example, but Saddle Arabia is another, influenced by the camels as we were from the griffons. Despite differences in appearance and weapons, each city-state once had warriors dedicated to lords and ladies.”

“Are we bringing them back?” Scootaloo asked, unsheathing her wooden blade and duplicating Night Bane’s stances in-step with the others.

“Hopefully,” Luna smiled at the fact the filly had already figured out how to speak with the handle in her mouth, “Now, enough chit-chat. You will practice changing between these three stances for the duration of the class. You will see Night Bane every day hereafter, and he will teach you the spear. I expect you to be proficient in both by next week.”

Within twenty minutes, only Big Mac was keeping up with Night Bane without struggle, the others unused to continuous physical exertion. It had seemed so easy, waving a wooden stick around, but the muscles in their necks and jaws, and in Spike’s arms, grew steadily fatigued. Luna eyed each of them in turn, but let her eyes flit over Big Mac a little longer. He was slow, his movements heavy, but they were by no means sloppy. The farmer was steady, reliable, and his sword strokes reminded Luna of scything fields of wheat, almost hypnotic in his motions. The twins were almost as hypnotic, their movements organized, their blades dancing as one, levitated by their magic. A few more months of training and they’d give the Wonderbolts a run for their bits in terms of organized movement.

Her eyes drifted to the two most promising students, however. Scootaloo and Spike had the most genuine interest in the course, and both were giving it their all with impressive results. Scootaloo’s natural dexterity and her raw determination to perfect physical tricks had her moving with surprising grace, refusing to tire at the weight of the blade. Luna found herself watching Spike, as well. She had never seen swords wielded in the manner they had originally been intended, but here was a dragon mimicking the forms of griffons. It was far more graceful than a pony could imitate with their muzzles, though still unrefined. Logically, though, a dragon didn’t really require a sword; their claws and fangs were strong enough to cut diamonds, and their fire had magical properties.

Seeing even the twins’ magic flicker, even Big Mac’s strength begin to falter, Luna called an end to their session, immediately reverting to her more cordial attitude. Night Bane prepared towels and canteens of water for each of the squires, which they guzzled gratefully. After cooling down, they began to file out, but Spike turned back towards Luna.

“Princess Luna?” he asked.

“Yes, Spike?” she replied, stopping in her task of repacking the cart.

“You know a lot about… monsters, right?” the drake asked, looking sick at the word.

“Of course,” Luna said evenly, though concern was writ on her face, “Why do you ask?”

“Do you know anything about dragons?” Spike asked and Luna’s eyes widened. With a signal to Night Bane, the guard finished packing the cart and left the two alone in the courtyard.

“I know much about many of pony-kind’s ancient enemies,” Luna confessed, “I am not sure how well my particular knowledge will be of use, however. I studied them so I could defeat them; I know little about their culture and history outside of their legends and military history.”

“What do you know about their fire?” the dragon asked.

“That all of it is particularly hot, but each dragon is capable of performing certain feats with their breath that others cannot,” Luna shrugged, “For instance, you can deliver letters with yours, and it only appears to work on letters.”

“Can I control it?” he asked, “Like, where to send it?”

Luna studied him for a moment, thinking.

“I believe I have a book in the library on dragon magic,” she said, “Why don’t you attend the magic course Monday? Perhaps I can teach you something.”

Spike smiled, nodding at the offer before his fatigue slammed into him. Yawning, he bid farewell before dragging himself towards his room. Luna watched him depart, contemplating his growing size. He had been shorter than the Cutie Mark Crusaders, hadn’t he? No longer. Perhaps she should read more on dragons when she had the chance, but her constitution took precedence.

Celestia would see Equestria’s future was as a republic, one way or the other.
> 14
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


14


Twilight looked at the Map. It was almost dead in its silence. Something of its luster had been lost, though she couldn’t decipher why. Her instincts told her a friendship problem was brewing, but the Map wasn’t telling her anything. Walking around Ponyville she had seen looks of resentment pass between ponies who, just days earlier, were close friends. Lyra and Bon-Bon, Vinyl Scratch and Octavia, Lotus Blossom and Aloe…

At least her friends were becoming friendly again. Laughter returned to their hanging out. Things were joyous once more, but… Twilight felt an undercurrent. Laughter seemed a little forced between them, as if they were all trying to get over something. Whenever they overheard two ponies get into an argument, even if it wasn’t about politics, her friends would still shoot each other brief, venomous glares when they thought no pony was watching. She still remembered one argument from Thursday evening when she was strolling with Rarity and Pinkie Pie…

“Your music is far too loud!” Octavia had snapped at her roommate, pulling the headphones from her head in a surprising display of anger, “If you can even call this music!”

“Well, I don’t need to take criticism from some uncreative hack who just replays the same music from centuries ago!” Vinyl shot back, “Write something original before you criticize a real artist!”

The shouting match continued as they passed, and Twilight felt her wings tense up. Looking back, why hadn’t she intervened?

“Some ponies, right?” Pinkie Pie had snorted, trying to defuse the tension they had all felt.

“Indeed,” Rarity agreed, “Then again, Vinyl Scratch never did have a respect for the true musical arts.”

Twilight felt her feathers ruffle. Rarity had taken the side of Octavia, who coincidentally was a supporter of the ‘established’ system. News had drifted from Canterlot by that point that the city-states were in a tizzy over uniting Equestria as either an empire or a republic, and apparently two mares at a spa had sparked a riot over which system was preferable. Octavia and the others who supported following the monarchy were coming to be called imperialists, imperials, imps, and even tyrants; Vinyl Scratch fell into the other category, the republicans, democrats, liberals, or progressives. None of those titles were derogatory like ‘tyrant’, but they were slung around as slurs by the imperials.

“Vinyl Scratch’s work is just as much art as the silly old fuddy-duddy music Octavia plays,” Pinkie Pie said, trying to hold back her temper for Twilight’s sake.

“Of course you’d think so,” Rarity mumbled.

Twilight had tensed and even Rarity grimaced as she said it, but Pinkie had thankfully chosen to ignore the comment. The rest of the evening had been silent and charged, and the two friends left the Princess with something like remorse, but at least there had been no exploding tempers like earlier. Now it was Friday once more and Twilight couldn’t help but remember the previous week when things had become so strained.

She had hoped those days were behind her.

“Hey Twi!” Applejack’s voice broke her troubled thoughts. Looking out her window, Twilight was pleased to see her five friends waiting outside with their pets, “Are you coming, or what?”

“Of course!” the Princess beamed, “I don’t think Owlowiscious would forgive me if I missed our playdate!”

Pushing the foreboding to the back of her mind, Twilight gestured for her owl to follow her. They would enjoy the day out, and then she’d make a plan to deal with the problems besieging her subjects.

There was nothing to worry about.


…


Spike parried the oncoming blade, struggling to stay to Scootaloo’s right. He had always been pretty docile, slow to action, and just generally slow; the pegasus filly was a spitfire, rearing to take him down. Anytime he maneuvered to her weak side, she’d use the trick Night Bane had taught her to flip the blade around in her mouth. Where once he was on the side with the pommel, now he was on the side with the blade. Scootaloo didn’t make much use of defense, her constant strikes and speedy maneuvers leaving little enough opening for the drake. At one point, Spike had considered simply outlasting her, trusting to his defenses then striking when she was tired, but…

…Scootaloo just couldn’t run out of steam.

“Enough!” Night Bane barked. Although it had only been a day, the two youths had learned to instantly obey instructions, no matter how hard the adrenaline was pumping. They began panting, looking towards their instructor. “Our time today is up; you two should get ready for your regular classes.”

“How did we do?” Scootaloo asked between gasps for breath, expertly sheathing her wooden sword.

“You’ve both improved in blade-work since yesterday, which is impressive considering both your age and the short amount of time,” Night Bane said, but obviously there was some criticism coming, “but you both lack dimension. Spike, you need to be more aggressive. You need to take advantage of the openings she gives you. If speed is the problem, try disrupting her attacks. And Scootaloo, you can’t rely entirely on attacking – you’ll burn yourself out against an opponent, and you’ll be too exhausted to counter any attacks against you.”

“Yes Sir,” they bowed their heads slightly in unison.

“I expect to see some improvement by tomorrow,” Night Bane cautioned, then smiled, “For then we shall begin the spear.”

“So soon?” Spike asked, “It’s only the third day…”

“You two can handle it,” Night Bane chuckled, “Besides, you’ll be working with those two weapons every day for the entire semester; even the Royal Guard don’t get sixteen weeks of training. But that’s enough training for today; you’re dismissed, squires.”

Again the two youths bowed their heads before unbuckling their sword belts and putting them up with the other training equipment. During the day, the courtyard was often used by many ponies, so it was more practical to train in the same building as the Royal Guard. Exhausted, the pair met up with their fellow students in the cafeteria, Big Mac and the twins leaving to get their training in with Night Bane before their classes started and leaving the youths alone with Trixie and Starlight.

“You two look exhausted!” Starlight gaped.

“Scootaloo’s pretty intense,” Spike grumbled, gratefully taking some offered gems and wolfing them down, “You must be a pretty good dancer.”

“Dancer?” the pegasus almost choked on her sandwich, “Why would you think that? Apple Bloom is the ballerina.”

“I’ve noticed that fighting is a lot like dancing,” Spike shrugged, “I figure if you can learn one, you can learn the other.”

“Hear that?” Scootaloo smirked at her friends, “You two should try it; get a chance to dance with-”

“Scootaloo…” Apple Bloom warned.

“It was one dance!” Sweetie Belle frowned, “I’m beginning to think you’re teasing us to cover up your emotions.”

“What?!” Scootaloo reeled back as if struck.

Spike just furrowed his brow, wondering what they were talking about.

“Come to think of it, you give us both a lot of grief over…” Apple Bloom’s eyes drifted to Spike then back to the pegasus, “…that guy. The fact you’re not dropping it, well, it seems like maybe you’re the one with the crush.”

“I have a crush on R- I don’t have a crush on anybody!” Scootaloo scowled.

“Really?” Sweetie said. Scootaloo waited for some jocular remark, but the unicorn filly seemed to be deep in thought for a moment, a blush creeping across her face. “So… if I were to ask Rumble out on a date when we get back, you wouldn’t care?”

Apple Bloom and Scootaloo widened their eyes at Sweetie Belle and even Spike could sense the sudden tension. Starlight stood up, sensing it too.

“Let’s go watch the guys spar,” she suggested, nudging Trixie.

“Oh, but this is about to get juicy…” Trixie purred, yelping when Starlight tugged on her mane, “Alright! Fine. I suppose watching stallions hitting each other with sticks is entertaining enough.”

“Come on, Spike,” Starlight said, “You can explain what’s going on.”

“Uh… sure,” the dragon knitted his brow as he left. Were they talking about Rumble? How in Equestria did all three of them have a crush on Rumble? Whatever, he had classes to attend.

“Are you serious?” Scootaloo asked once they were relatively alone. Only Royal Guards were around, but they ignored the fillies. Soldiers might be gossips, but school-filly crushes weren’t really an issue they debated.

“Why didn’t you ever mention it before?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Scootaloo has a crush on Rumble, and hers was so much more obvious,” Sweetie sighed, “plus, they’re both pegasi and obsessed with the Wonderbolts. I don’t share a lot of interests with him.”

“I don’t share any interests with Spike,” Apple Bloom sighed, “Frankly, he’d be a better fit with you, Sweetie.”

“But I’m not interested,” the unicorn sighed, “Look, I’m sorry Scootaloo, but y’know how crushes are.”

“It’s fine,” the pegasus sighed. Oh man, how was she supposed to compete with Sweetie Belle? Rumble was a good friend, but he still treated his fellow Wonderbolt fan as one of the guys; Scootaloo had no doubt he’d feel awkward if she made an advance. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Apple Bloom nodded, “We’ve got a quiz today, remember. Y’all have studied, right?”

The fillies began trying to focus on the coming test, reviewing their notes and pushing their romantic drama to the back of their heads.


…


“So, what have you got planned for this Guy’s Night?” Starlight asked as they strolled to the practice yard, “Another quest to rescue Princess Shmarity from the Squizard?”

“Oh please…” Trixie muttered quietly.

“Come on, Glim-Glam,” Spike snorted, “you know I haven’t used Princess Shmarity for, like, six campaigns now.”

“It’s hard to believe you really wrote her out,” Starlight smirked, “’Glim-Glam’?”

“I’m trying out nicknames,” Spike chuckled, “I guess I could just call you Star.”

“Trixie likes Glim-Glam,” the magician chuckled, “Spike and Glim-glam off to watch Mac and Flim-Flam. It has a nice ring to it.”

“I suppose me saying I prefer ‘Star’ isn’t going to make a difference?” Starlight asked, still smiling.

“I think it’s been decided,” Spike and Trixie shared the smirk, “Ah, here it is.”

“You two can’t fight at all!” Night Bane exclaimed, “I might as well let you both fight him.

Flim and Flam glared at the Night Guard, covered in bruises and scratches while Big Mac looked entirely unscathed, but wore a guilty expression. Night Bane gestured for them to take stances, two-on-one. Maybe there’d be a fair fight. At his signal, they began, and unsurprisingly the twins displayed their usual mistakes, but… Night Bane’s eyes widened as he realized as soon as Flim messed up, his brother covered for him, and vice versa. While they were barely competent alone, together they were equal to Big Macintosh. Soon, Big Mac struggled to keep up with their magical thrusts and parries. They flanked him, striking in unison without ever seeing the other. How could they function with one mind like that?

Still, they were not fighters. Big Mac wasn’t either, but he had the physicality for it. Even together, Flim and Flam couldn’t best the farmer’s raw strength and steady maneuvers. He battered their swords aside, striking them in their ribs and necks with as much self-control as he could muster. Still the twins collapsed, winded but uninjured.

“Well,” Night Bane noted, “that was certainly an improvement. Oh look, an audience. You three might want to step up your game; mares are watching.”

“Unless one of them is a blonde wearing a brown hat,” Flim picked himself up, remembering who had just beaten him up, “Uh… let’s just forget where I was going with that.”

“You sure like my sister, huh?” Big Mac asked, relenting a little. Something about beating a guy up and getting to know him through combat helped change one’s opinion of them. Flim wasn’t too bad, and at least he was trying to improve himself to impress Applejack rather than move onto their farm like Trenderhoof had.

“My brother and I don’t usually jump through so many hoops for just any pony,” Flam said, helping his brother up, “Now, let us try to impress the mares present.”

“Maybe they’ll pass it along to the Princesses for you two,” Flim suggested with a chortle, drawing blushes out of his brother and Big Mac.

On the sidelines, Spike explained what was happening to the two mares.

“See how Big Mac deflected that shot?” he pointed out, “That’s a parry. Also, notice how Flim and Flam are working to get to either side of Big Mac. We call that a flanking maneuver.”

“I know what a flank is, Spike,” Starlight chuckled.

“Nice double entendre,” Trixie smirked.

Flim and Flam finally succeeded in scoring a point on Big Mac, which judging by their numerous bruises was the first time that afternoon. Spike continued to explain what was happening the entire time they dueled, but soon even Trixie understood the rules and the terms used. Before long the duels ended and it was time to get ready for Celestia’s class.

Spike and Trixie said their goodbyes to Starlight for now, promising to hang out later. Starlight found herself going into her usual studious state, excitedly and eagerly listening to her mentor. Celestia was still in a mood over current affairs, it seemed, but stopped in the middle of her lecture when she noticed how bruised the twins were.

“Flam?” she asked, looking hurt herself, “Oh, and Flim, too. Goodness, what happened to you?”

“Chivalry practice, Princess,” Flam stretched, trying to play it off as nothing, “Night Bane forces us to run through some hoops, but our skills are quite advanced.”

“Indeed, quite advanced!” Flim agreed.

“Ha!” Starlight couldn’t help it. She smiled sheepishly as they glared at her.

“My sister is a brute, sometimes,” Celestia tsked, using her magic to straighten out Flam’s clothing and comb his hair. Almost as an afterthought, she did the same to Flim. “I was expecting her to lecture you on the finer points of the chivalrous code and respect for the nobility; I should have known she’d only focus on combat!”

“She talks about the nobility, too,” Flim interjected, “Why, just the other day she explained… uh… well, I can’t quite recall what she was saying.”

“There was definitely nobility involved, though!” Flam nodded agreement.

“Why did you even sign up for that silly course?” Celestia demanded.

Both brothers looked at each other, confused, then back at the Princess.

“You recommended it,” they said in unison.

“Oh, yes…” Celestia muttered, “Let’s return to our friendship lessons. We have a quiz today.”

“Alright girls,” Apple Bloom smiled at her closest friends, “it’s a good thing we studied!”

Celestia tried to enjoy handing out the tests. She usually liked all things scholarly, but now Flam was covered in welts and Luna was trying to democratize Equestria. Even seeing her students putting themselves to the challenge lacked its usual appeal.

Why, sister?


…


Apple Bloom awoke the next day feeling refreshed. It took until she was brushing her teeth to realize she had just completed her first week of classes. It had certainly felt longer than a week, but that meant she only had fifteen more to go until the semester was over. How long had Twilight been in school? Presumably around ten or maybe a little younger, then up until she moved to Ponyville… Apple Bloom spit the mouthful of minty saliva in her mouth. That was something like a decade, at least!

“Will I be in school that long?” she wondered aloud as she cleaned up her sink.

Showering, Apple Bloom chose to spend the hour before breakfast reviewing her notes from the Ancient Lore class the night before. Luna had started with stuff they’d already known, the popular legend of the Windigos. Looking back at Celestia’s notes, Apple Bloom reviewed the most recent musings on the Compendium of Compassion. No wonder Twilight liked Starswirl so much; the guy was a genius. Apple Bloom only regretted she couldn’t use active magic like unicorns.

“Enough studying,” she smiled to herself, “It’s Sated Day, and Princess Celestia always stresses enjoying the weekend with friends.”

The farm filly pondered briefly why the Princesses had such an emphasis on friendship when they themselves had almost no friends nor time to hang out with them. She reckoned it had to do with some kind of self-sacrifice on their part. It was very noble. Would elected leaders have to make that kind of sacrifice? Would having personal friendships be a problem for leaders?

“No, no thinking about class,” Apple Bloom shook her head as she ventured to the cafeteria where the others were gathering. The pancake breakfasts by Celestia were long gone, sadly, both Princesses too busy in their particular attempts to unite Equestria. Apple Bloom hadn’t really expected them to be a daily thing, anyway. Sure, they were the personal guests of the Princesses, but that honor didn’t mean they got daily breakfasts like that…

“Wow, you’re actually later than usual,” Sweetie Belle said as Apple Bloom approached their table, “Don’t tell me you actually slept in.”

“Of course not,” Apple Bloom snorted, “I took the time to study.”

“Careful, Starlight,” Trixie joked, “looks like there’s a new mini-Twilight.”

“Har-har,” the other mare snorted, but her humor was muted.

“What’s wrong, Glim-Glam?” Spike asked, wincing as she shot him a glare for using that name.

“Celestia’s teachings have gotten more… abrasive,” she sighed, “and Luna has started to ignore my suggestions entirely.”

“Are you talking about that debate you two had last night about government control of industry?” Apple Bloom asked, “I thought it was a pretty fair balance, myself.”

The decision they had come to – or rather, the decision Luna had come to – was to have a largely unregulated, free market industry, but that the government could seize control of the markets in times of emergency. To Apple Bloom, it sounded good, though she didn’t understand economics near as much as she’d like.

“It’s pretty much the same as the current system,” Starlight grimaced, “Really, it’s just begging for trouble. I mean, ponies like Filthy Rich have carte blanche to run their businesses however they want, building monopolies, and destabilizing entire areas for their personal benefit.”

“Wouldn’t that lead to an emergency?” Spike pointed out, “Couldn’t the government intervene then?”

“I suppose, but the business-ponies could make the argument the government is infringing on their rights,” Starlight sighed, “We’re planning on uniting Equestria as a single nation. If we let independent companies run the markets competitively, they’ll seize every resource they can and try to crush the competition. Before you know it, all of Equestria’s resources will be controlled by a handful of ponies and not the government – a government run by the regular ponies, mind you.”

“And dragons,” Spike added, a little annoyed, “and all the other non-ponies.”

“Sorry, Spike,” Starlight smiled, weakly, “force of habit.”

“No offense, Starlight,” Apple Bloom said, “but I think you’re exaggerating. Democratic thought is built on the principle that every pony – and non-pony – has an equal say in government, and equal opportunities elsewhere. If Equestria was a republic, the ponies would expect freedom. Why in the world would they want the government to control everything? And if they don’t want the government to run things, why would they want a small group of rich ponies running everything? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, I’d like to point out that if the government is run by the ponies and non-ponies equally,” Starlight chuckled, “then a government-run market and industry would be run by the citizens.” The unicorn’s smile faded. “I might be overreacting, but that argument isn’t really what bugged me; it’s the fact Luna is shutting me out most of the time.”

“She listens to you,” Apple Bloom said, “She listens to all of us.”

“Listening and taking our suggestions are two different things,” Starlight noted, dryly.

“She only ever adjusts the parts about ponies and non-ponies when I stress it,” Spike said, “and even then, it’s as an afterthought.”

“She listens to me,” Apple Bloom frowned.

“That’s because everything you suggest is something she’s already open to,” Starlight sighed, “She doesn’t want to listen to new ideas.”

“Have you ever thought that your ideas just don’t work?” the filly shot back, a little upset by Starlight’s words. The pink unicorn’s ears folded back and she looked genuinely hurt.

“Apple Bloom…” Big Mac warned.

“No, she’s right,” Starlight sighed, “I’m just disappointed in the class. I thought… I thought I’d learn how to better present my ideas, and that I’d be encouraged to push the limits on them by Luna. Instead, she just ignores me.”

“To be fair, she’s busy with the constitution,” Apple Bloom said, something of an apologetic tone entering her voice, “I’m sure she’ll focus on being your mentor again as soon as Nightmare Night’s over.”

“Nightmare Night?” Scootaloo asked.

“The end of the month,” Starlight explained, “Luna has until then to submit her constitution.”

“That’s quite the coincidence,” Sweetie giggled, “Luna has a project due by Nightmare Night. It’s kind of her holiday, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s a little weird,” Starlight noted, “Of course, she could always submit it early. We haven’t been doing much to it at this point except proofreading. Like I said, she’s not taking any suggestions for changes.”

“I think it looks pretty solid, myself,” Apple Bloom said, confidently, “Besides, it’s just a rough draft to give to Celestia; then they can work on a better version.”

“Provided Celestia even accepts it,” Starlight muttered, “Be honest with me, guys; am I the only one that will care if they turn Equestria into an empire instead of a democracy?”

“From how Celestia described it, it won’t be that different from how things are now,” Scootaloo said.

“To be honest, I’d kind of prefer it,” Sweetie shrunk back at the startled looks from Spike, Apple Bloom, and Starlight, “I-I mean, I’ve never lived in a city-state where I had to know about policies and vote on stuff. It sounds like a lot of work, and what if every pony makes the wrong choice? Then there’s all the debates, and inevitably there will be a losing side and a winning side… it just sounds really divisive.”

“Yeesh, you guys and your big words…” Scootaloo rubbed her temples, “I’m not afraid of change, but I’m pretty indifferent to all of this. Empire, republic… as long as things don’t become unjust, then I’m fine with either.”

“What if they do become unjust?” Starlight asked.

“Then Rainbow Dash and the other Elements of Harmony will come in and stop it,” the pegasus filly snorted, “duh.”

“We shouldn’t be too reliant on the Elements,” Starlight warned.

“You should relax, Glim-Glam,” Big Mac said, slowly. Starlight groaned; not him, too! “I’m sure Luna knows what she’s doing. Uh, and Princess Celestia, too.”

“These are immortal Alicorn Princesses, after all,” Flim pointed out.

“Over a thousand years of wisdom resides in each of them,” Flam nodded, agreement, “We should trust them.”

Starlight nodded, too, but it didn’t seem right in her head. How could you trust, or even relate to, beings who had ruled over commoners for a thousand years. An alicorn was almost another species, their power and immortality making it impossible for them to fully relate to regular ponies. There was nothing for it, of course. Starlight realized the only conclusion with resignation.

As long as alicorns existed, they’d run Equestria.


…


“I’m surprised you two decided to show up,” Starlight noted, looking at her fellow students as they set up a game of Ogres and Oubliettes. Flim and Flam were there, sure as rain, which made the others cautious. “I didn’t think this was your sort of thing…”

“It’s not,” Flim stated, flatly.

“What my brother means to say,” Flam smoothed out Flim’s words, “is that we don’t have many friends in Canterlot outside of your little soiree, and we’ve also been given over to trying new things.”

“Princess Celestia was busy?” Trixie asked in a deadpan.

“Why are you here?” Flim decided to ask instead of answer, “I was under the impression you didn’t like these sorts of things.”

“The Great and Powerful Trixie,” the magician said with a flare, “…wanted to try her hand at being the Oubliette-master. She has a wonderful skill with oratory.”

“I promised her she could narrate if she’d come,” Starlight shrugged, “I like bigger parties. Thanks again, Spike.”

“I don’t mind,” Spike smiled, “I was actually surprised she already had such a well-developed campaign ready…”

“Do Flim and Flam have their character sheets?” Trixie asked, hurriedly.

“Yes, yes…” the clean-shaven twin smirked at her reaction, “Now, show me why this is such a fun pastime.”

Starlight was rather distracted throughout the campaign. She couldn’t help but think about what the future would hold. An important decision on the governance of Equestria was in the works, but her friends all seemed unconcerned about it. Governmental changes were a cause for concern, weren’t they? Shouldn’t there be more reaction? From looking around the castle and Canterlot, it seemed like only the delegates and representatives of city-states cared; the regular subjects were set loyally for their city-states and thus didn’t see it as an issue. After all, they would win.

Starlight knitted her brow. What would happen to that confidence and lack of concern when one side didn’t win?


…


Luna braved the storms of tumultuous dreams. Ponies had grown increasingly restless in their sleep, unconscious fears boiling over at night where they were suppressed by day. The democratic city-state dwellers feared the loss of freedom; the imperial city-state dwellers feared anarchy. Luna tried to offer hope to both, promising the former that there was a good chance Equestria would unite as a democracy, and trying to convince the latter that democracy wasn’t anarchy and their fears were unfounded. While the republican city-state citizens’ dreams did grow calmer, the imperials only grew more panicked.

Luna had put the work off too long, using more and more of her time – time that usually went to her royal duties – tweaking the constitution she desperately wanted to present to her sister. Secretly, though… secretly she knew Celestia wasn’t going to give her the time of day. Sighing, she entered another dream, this one of the Marexican representative that had been sent alongside the Germane and had set all these events into motion.

The Princess of the Night gaped at the scene before her. She remembered Marexico when it had been like the imperial city-states, before they had adopted the model Prance used; she remembered when Prance, itself, had been imperial, and Trottingham had been the most progressive of city-states, long before Ponyville had been founded. Marexico had always been very festive and bright, and the uniforms of their guards and civil servants had matched, all vibrant hues. The culture had hardly changed, but the uniforms had become more drab and efficient while retaining something of their old identity.

In this nightmare, however, the old uniforms were back. Luna blinked at her surroundings. The streets were broken, half the lights didn’t work, and many ponies were forced to live in makeshift slums in alleys. Intimidating stallions wearing the bright uniforms of Marexico’s past marched past with sneers at the destitute. Ahead of Luna was the only well-maintained district in the entire city-state, closed off and protected by a wall and armed guards, besieged by the destitute. Luna walked through without trouble, finding the Marexican representative on the other side, looking distressed but well-off.

“Princess Luna!” she bowed deeply, “My Lady, whatever are you doing here? We’ve already sent this month’s taxes…”

“Be at ease, Spring Dahlias,” Luna said, drawing up the representative’s name from memory, “You are having a nightmare.”

“You can say that again,” Spring Dahlias sighed, looking about her with disgust, “Do you see this division? It is just as in our past.”

“I visited imperial Marexico often in my youth,” Luna said, “I do not remember such stark contrast.”

“A thousand years ago there wasn’t,” Dahlias agreed, “but within a few centuries of your banishment, things became worse. Princess Celestia became so busy, managing the entire kingdom herself, and raising the sun and moon, so much of governance fell to the nobility. Without any pony looking over their shoulders, many of them became corrupt.”

“I see,” Luna nodded, thinking back to her brush-up courses on history when she had returned. None of them had mentioned corruption, but that certainly explained the rest of it. “The corrupt leaders inspired ponies to move out, seeking to form their own city-states…”

“Yes,” Dahlias smiled, weakly, “For those who stayed in the city-states, they struggled to change the system. Trottingham imposed a constitution that forced the nobility to listen to their subjects and imposed a checks and balancing system. Prance, however… well, the nobility had to be removed, which displeased Celestia and many others. Marexico had to do the same.”

“Interesting,” Luna mused, feeling a new wave of emotions. Why had this been obfuscated by the historical accounts? Luna decided that, as soon as she had some free time, she’d have to read accounts of such events written by ponies from the area and not from outside observers, like she had been doing.

“If Equestria goes imperial, I won’t stand for it,” Dahlias said, suddenly, startling Luna, “I won’t! Marexico will secede and stay a sovereign republic. I will not allow this division and suffering to return!”

Luna opened her mouth to say something about how she should trust in her leaders, that they wouldn’t allow something like this to happen again, but… how could she? It had happened under Celestia’s watch, during a time of peace and prosperity. Celestia had allowed the city-states to govern themselves with the nobility in charge, and they had grown corrupt with that independence. Now she would do the same all over again. What right did Luna have telling this mare, or any other citizen of Equestria, that they had to stay in such a nation?

A detail caught her eye, though.

“Why are you on this side of the wall?” she asked.

“I am a government official,” Dahlias frowned, “and… and I am descended from the noble family that originally governed Marexico. My birth alone guarantees my status if we return to the old ways, which is unfair. I earned this position myself, not by my birth.”

“Is all your family so successful?” the Princess asked.

“No,” Dahlias snorted, “many are poor or middle class. That is more their fault than the system, though; they were not forced into it.”

“I have a student who would say no pony should be poor…” Luna mused, but dismissed the thought. Starlight’s ideas were not very applicable, and besides, it was too close to the deadline to try alterations. “I will give my full support for any democratic city-states who wish to secede.”

“Truly?” Dahlias gaped, “What if Equestria becomes a republic and the imperial city-states threaten secession?”

“That is unlikely,” Luna said, meaning it was unlikely the imperials would secede. In truth, it was unlikely Equestria would become a republic, either. “If they do, the ponies will suffer without their leaders and see the success of the republic, and they will make the decisions Prance and Marexico made.”

“Will you join us?” the representative asked. Luna noticed the dream was already shifting back to the modern Marexico, with newer architecture and cleaner streets, happier ponies walking about with no divisionary walls. “If we are forced to secede, I fear none will follow or work together unless we have an alicorn supporting us.”

“Republics are supposed to be run by regular ponies…” Luna said, “I would not be a Princess, and I cannot abandon Equestria…”

“You would not be!” Dahlias assured her, “Roughly half of Equestria’s population is within democratic city-states running off the republican model! If we seceded, who is to say that we are not the true Equestria and that Celestia failed us as a leader?”

“I do not like where this is going,” Luna said, feeling anxious.

“We need a leader who can bind us and stand their own against Celestia,” Dahlias said, “at least at first. Please, Princess… your subjects are crying out for freedom, a freedom you support! Will you not join us if push comes to shove?”

“I…” Luna stammered, then sighed in resignation, “I cannot turn my back on my subjects.”

Dahlias’ face fell.

“…nor can I ignore a cry for freedom,” the Princess continued, offering a smile as Dahlias’ eyes alighted with hope, “Very well. The decision shall be made soon, so gather your allies – in secret! – and let them know. If my sister sees how we are willing to leave for this cause, she will surely reconsider and – at the very least – we can reach a compromise of some sort.”

“As long as Marexico is not forced to return to noble rule,” Dahlias sighed, relieved that they could avoid conflict, “then we will continue to be a part of Equestria.”

“I would also recommend appointing your leaders for this impromptu republic,” Luna suggested, “It will help our cause if it looks like we’re already organized if and when we need to leave. Celestia might ignore our demands if it looks like we’re nothing more than disheveled protestors.”

“Understood,” the representative nodded, quickly.

“Between now and waking, my dear Spring Dahlias,” Luna smiled as she began to fade, “pleasant dreams.”

Luna returned to the waking realm to find she still had some time left before her usual bedtime. The Princess of the Night approached the constitution, but as she reread it, she found there was nothing left to tweak. It was as close to perfect as she wanted it to be. Yawning, she decided to go to bed. She would submit it to Celestia later in the afternoon, in front of the assembly, and her sister would listen, or suffer the consequences.

Luna couldn’t help but smirk as she fell into her own slumber at the prospect of putting her sister on the spot on a Sunday, of all days.


…


“We have to train?” Spike asked through a yawn, his fellow squires beside him, “Even on a Sunday?”

“Will the enemy avoid attacking on a Sunday?” Night Bane demanded, “I think not.”

Knowing there was no point arguing with their instructor, the squires remained silent and awaited instructions. Night Bane ran them through their usual drills in sword and spear, then had them pair up as best they could. Typically, the bouts ran with Flim and Flam working as a single combatant, since even together they were just barely a match for any of the others. Night Bane sighed at their display. They were trying, but they just weren’t warriors.

Frankly, only Scootaloo seemed a genuine warrior. Spike and Big Mac were trying as well, and they’d certainly make excellent fighters in their own right, but their interest wasn’t fully into the art like Scootaloo’s was. Big Mac aimed to return to his farm one day; Spike was more interested in matters of the heart. Scootaloo, though… she would pursue the art as far as it got her for she strived to prove herself to Rainbow Dash. A futile endeavor, since the Wonderbolt already believed in Scootaloo, but it gave the pegasus filly the spunk to keep striving.

“Our time is up, squires,” the Night Guard said, “but before I dismiss you, you should know that Princess Luna will no longer be instructing the chivalry course.”

“What?” Scootaloo asked, stunned. Her fellow squires were equally confused.

“Political matters,” Night Bane said, gruffly, narrowing his eyes as he noticed Gutsy Gust watching them from the edge of the training yard. Was he keeping an eye on Flim and Flam, as he often did, or was Princess Celestia having him switch focus exclusively to Luna’s courses…? “I will take it upon myself to instruct you in the arts of chivalry. I am not a heartless taskmaster; in fact, Thursdays will actually be days of recuperation. You will train every other day, as we have been doing, but the class will be purely focused on the more philosophical elements of chivalry.”

“Um, Mr. Night Bane?” Scootaloo asked with trepidation, “Are you alright? You seemed a little distracted through most of the session.”

“Very astute, squire,” Night Bane grunted, “I suppose current events has me concerned. It doesn’t concern you, of course. Enjoy your Sunday and stick to your studies, alright?”

“Yes Sir,” Scootaloo nodded.

Night Bane watched them clean up their gear and leave, noticing Gutsy Gust had stayed after they left and only departed when the Night Guard looked up at him. Between that and all the sudden transfers between Night and Day Guards… Night Bane shook his head, chuckling. He was overreacting; things wouldn’t get that bad.

Would they?


…


“What is the meaning of this, Luna?” Celestia barely kept her voice from seething.

The Princess of the Night had burst through the doors, awake far earlier than usual, and barging into the midst of a heated political situation. The republican city-state representatives had started a coalition, threatening secession if Equestria went the route of imperialism. Celestia was confident they didn’t have the approval of their governors, and certainly not the consent of the governed as their constitutions demanded. Surely it was just an empty threat? Still, the Princess of the Day sensed Luna’s hoof in all of it.

“The meaning of what, sister?” Luna wore a mocking smile.

“The democratic city-states are threatening secession if I do not agree to make Equestria a republic!” Celestia exclaimed, surrounded by outraged representatives from the imperial city-states.

“Then it is a good thing I have finished the constitution draft,” Luna decreed, loud enough for all gathered to hear.

“The what?” Celestia blinked.

“Have you already forgotten?” Luna sneered, “You promised that if I finished a constitutional draft by which Equestria can function as a republic, you would appraise it and – if it was to your liking – we could discuss converting Equestria to a republic.”

“Your Majesty?” the Germane representative paled, looking back at Celestia, “Is this true?”

“I did promise that we’d discuss it further…” Celestia said, rigidly, “if it seemed sound.”

“Then take a look,” Luna said, levitating the parchment to her sister.

Celestia unrolled it and gave the document a cursory glance, skimming through it. There were many minor flaws and some serious issues, but it was a good start. It could, feasibly, work with some more development.

But Celestia was not in the mood to entertain such designs.

“This won’t work,” she said, flatly, “I’m sorry, sister, but Equestria will be an empire. It must be in order to survive.”

“You barely even read the document,” Luna looked hurt, snatching it back with her magic and startling her sister, “Very well. If you won’t use it, then may it serve the secessionists well as a template.”

The constitution was given to Spring Dahlias, startling the conservative members of the assembly and especially Celestia.

“You would support these… traitors?” the Princess of the Day asked, coldly.

“I would allow them the right to govern themselves,” Luna retorted, just as cold, “a right you have suspended, apparently.”

“I will not allow this!” Celestia raged.

“This is a co-regency, sister,” Luna reminded her, “You have no right to force them to stay without consent, nor do you have a right to mobilize any effort to force them to stay without my shared consent. Let them go in peace.”

“We hope to remain peaceful allies with-” Spring Dahlias began.

“Leave,” Celestia said, suddenly, without emotion.

The representatives stood motionless and silent, unsure what that meant.

“ALL OF YOU LEAVE!” Celestia howled in her Royal Voice, white fire dancing across her body. In a panic, the mortal ponies fled except for the Guards. Celestia briefly thought about dismissing them as well, unwilling to have any witnesses for this petty affair, but decided she had let her composure slip enough. Calming only slightly, she glared down at Luna. “We were supposed to unite Equestria, and you have taken every opportunity to keep us divided.”

“I could say the same of you, sister,” Luna shot back, unfazed by her sister’s theatrics; it was nothing she hadn’t seen before, “You refused to even discuss the constitution, and you have often flaunted your views over mine.”

“I have a millennium of experience governing these lands more than you,” Celestia said, “I know my subjects, and I have governed fairly.”

“You are out of touch,” Luna grimaced, “They worship you as a goddess while they disregard your teachings. Your nobility – the kind you wish to reinstate in the city-states – is prone to corruption and abuse of power. Your system rewards opportunism, and you cannot see it from the gilded cage you’ve built for yourself here in Canterlot.”

“And you can?” Celestia rolled her eyes.

“I see it and more,” Luna stood straighter, her dark aura balancing out Celestia’s blazing one, “I have roamed these lands at night and seen the standards ponies and non-ponies live in, the obvious discrepancies between classes, between castes, and between species. I have seen into their dreams, seen the conceit of the unicorns and the wealthy, and the fear of the impoverished earth pony and pegasus, and the non-pony. The nightmares of the nobles, the wealthy, and the unicorns are almost entirely superficial and miniscule compared to the sea of fears that haunt the remaining population, and yet you cannot see it!

“How can I expect you to see it when the only ones around you are wealthy politicians and unicorn students?”

Celestia’s wrath had eroded the longer Luna had talked, her anger being replaced by shock. Luna had spoken true, of course, but… but that only enraged Celestia further. To imply that she was a prisoner, to imply that she was out of touch! It smacked of insult, as if Luna were saying she was a fool. The alicorn felt her rage boil up and then violently suppressed it.

“Are you going to join them?” Celestia asked, coldly.

“I will offer them my support,” Luna said, calmly, “and I will work with them in camaraderie. In time, I hope we can be – at the very least – allies. Someday, I dream the empire you wish to build will look at their success and we can reunite, adopting their constitution. Until that time, however, I see no reason to appear weak to this so-called Orduud beyond our borders, nor do I see a reason for there to be hostilities between the city-states.”

Celestia felt her anger ebb away and felt more than a little ridiculous for having gotten so worked up. What was she thinking? Luna wasn’t trying a power play or anything. In time, the city-states would reunite – just not the way Luna thought. Celestia was confident the republic scheme would probably fall through, even with Luna’s patronage, and they’d rejoin Equestria as a whole.

“My apologies, sister,” Celestia smiled, meekly, “I fear I’ve been paranoid of late.”

“I believe we all have,” Luna chortled, gently, “If you will excuse me, I think I’ll take a power nap before my duties tonight.”

“Of course,” Celestia agreed, “I could use a nap myself.”

“It is the day to worship the Sun,” Luna smirked, “Do not feel ashamed to pamper yourself a little. Perhaps you should spend some time with Flim and Flam… or rather just Flam.”

“Only if you agree to a spend some time with Big Macintosh tonight,” Celestia smirked in turn.

Luna thought about it.

“Agreed,” the Princess of the Night responded, startling Celestia, “Enjoy your date.”

Celestia was left stammering as Luna confidently strode out of the chamber. The Princess of the Night felt her smile slip the closer she got to her bedchamber. She had very nearly sparked a confrontation right then and there. Only by keeping a cool head – something incredibly difficult for her – had she managed to avoid an incident. Now she had to continue her duties while helping manage the upstart republic, and would likely have to aid in restructuring the rest of Equestria into an empire. After all, if she didn’t help with that and let Celestia do all the work, then she would essentially be saying Celestia was the sole empress. It was too much work, even for an Alicorn Princess. What she needed was an assistant to work with the republic.

Smiling as she drifted into her nap, Luna realized the perfect mare for the job.
> 15
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


15


Twilight found herself staring at the Map again for most of the Monday morning. No pony came in to stop her, for no pony lived with her. Nor dragon. The Map seemed lifeless, and its magic was beyond her understanding – it was beyond even Starswirl’s understanding. She needed someone even wiser than him.

With a grimace, she went out to retrieve someone who might not have been wiser, but had knowledge in powerful magic. A mild-paced trot through Ponyville brought her to the woods where a cottage rested, isolated from the light and pollution of even the smallest towns. The alicorn knocked on the door and was greeted almost instantly by bumping noises and laughter from the other side.

“Just a moment!” Fluttershy’s voice giggled from the other side. Twilight felt herself pale at what she might be walking into.

The door opened and she saw there had been nothing to worry about. Well, at least nothing suggestive. Discord was there as she had predicted, though wearing a frilly apron and holding a tray of doughy gingerbread ponies. The only cause for concern was that some objects had begun defying reality around Discord, namely one of Fluttershy’s vanity mirrors which was folding in on itself through origami and taking on the aspects of whatever it became. Here a swan, there a bear, and so on, Twilight’s startled features reflected in every angle.

“It’s quite lovely, isn’t it?” Fluttershy asked, her face joining Twilight’s in the reflections, “I think I might ask him to keep it as a swan, though I’m worried it would frighten the other animals.”

“It is unique,” Twilight admitted, tearing her eyes away from the crystalline creature and seeing Discord put the gingerbread ponies into the heated oven. Immediately they started screaming, but Discord closed the door and whistled over them. Slightly disturbed, Twilight couldn’t help but feel a pang of loss at seeing the apron, so similar in design to Spike’s.

“Is there a problem, Princess?” Discord asked with a wry smile, “Don’t worry, they weren’t real ponies I turned into cookies or anything; that’d be too many calories.”

“I need your help,” Twilight said, figuring there was no point beating around the bush with Equestria’s oldest prankster.

“Alright…” Discord’s smile widened, “I’m intrigued.”

“I don’t think the Map is working…” Twilight said.

“I can’t help with that,” Discord’s smile faltered, “My powers are centered around random acts of creation and change – not reparation.”

“Surely you know something about the Map?” Twilight allowed her desperation to show.

“I’m sorry, Twilight,” Discord sighed, snapping a chair beneath Twilight, “The only thing I know about the Elements and anything they spawned was that I could be imprisoned by them. Have you tried contacting Starswirl?”

“I don’t know where he is,” Twilight teleported a postcard with a grimace, “The last postcard he sent me was from Las Pegasus.”

“’Wish you were… her’?” Discord read the card, trying not to laugh, “My, that’s a pretty unicorn in the picture.”

“Discord…” Fluttershy warned.

“Alright, alright!” Discord chuckled, “It’s good to see the old oaf has mellowed out with age, at least. I’m sorry, Twi, but unless you want me to turn it into something else, I can’t really do much. Ooo, how about a fondue machine?”

“I’ll pass…” the Princess sighed, “I know there’s a friendship problem, but the Map won’t send us anywhere. It’s not telling me anything.”

“Maybe we’ll find out soon,” Fluttershy said, “A little birdie told me that Canterlot has reached a decision about the political situation. I’m sure Celestia will be in contact shortly. Or the other group.”

“The other group?” Twilight rounded on Fluttershy.

“Well, she told me that some of the city-states are seceding, but I don’t know which ones,” the pegasus offered a conciliatory smile, “Canaries don’t have words for political ideologies.”

“This is horrible!” Twilight groaned, “The whole point of restructuring Equestria was to keep us united!”

“I’m sure it will blow over,” Discord snorted, “One side will be more successful than the other, ponies will be unhappy, and in no time you’ll all be singing and baking cakes.”

“Discord, have you heard anything about the political situation?” Twilight asked, “You are friends with the Princesses, aren’t you?”

“Me?” Discord smirked, “Well, they haven’t reached out to me, but this Orduud group has offered me a seat at their meetings as the representative of the draconequues peoples. Largely redundant since I’m the only one I know of.”

“The Orduud?” the two ponies asked.

“Some silly little group of non-ponies that are trying to unite in order to keep Equestrian expansion out of their borders,” the God of Chaos waved a hand dismissively, “I do believe their alliance is what prompted this silly squabble in the first place.”

“Are you going to join them?” the alicorn asked, cautiously.

“I don’t plan on joining any side!” Discord laughed, “I’m a spirit of Chaos; not a mortal obligated to allegiances. Besides, the only reason I bother visiting your dimension these days is to spend time with Fluttershy and occasionally participate in Guy’s Night… which I missed, last night.”

“He was helping me dig a new pond for the fish,” Fluttershy beamed.

Twilight narrowed her eyes at the two as they exchanged half-lidded expressions and knowing smiles. Was the term “best friend” just a cover in Ponyville, or something? Or was Twilight reading too much into the situation? When things were less dire, the Princess vowed to take some lessons on relationships from Cadence.

“Well, I suppose there’s nothing for it…” Twilight sighed, “Your birds can transmit news that quickly?”

“Of course,” Fluttershy giggled, “and they aren’t my birds. Unfortunately, I seem to be the only pony capable of understanding them. Even then, sometimes things are lost in translation.”

“Too bad,” Twilight frowned, “I miss Spike. I hope I get a letter from him soon.”

“It is Monday,” the pegasus reminded her, “Canterlot is very close. Even if they sent them Saturday evening, it’s possible letters could arrive today or tomorrow.”

“That’s true!” Twilight brightened at the prospect of being pen pals with her… dragon-son? She wasn’t sure she could start referring to the drake as her son, per se, but that was certainly the place he held in her heart, and it was obvious he felt the same. “Still, I wish he were here.”

“I fail to see how the ruler of Spiketopia could fix the map,” Discord said, putting emphasis on Spike’s roleplaying creation.

“I don’t wish him back to fix the map,” Twilight snapped, slightly, “I just want him back because I miss him. He’s been a constant presence in my life for… well, more than half my life! Now the castle’s empty and every pony in town is at each other’s throats and I don’t know what to do.”

“The smartest thing would be for you to declare neutrality until the whole silly thing blows over,” Discord said.

“Whatever Celestia decides, I’ll follow her example,” Twilight smiled, “She is a wise leader; she’s never let me down before.”

“There’s a first time for everything, Princess,” the draconequues chuckled.

Twilight narrowed her eyes, wondering if the Spirit of Chaos were behind all of this. He had a track record for betrayal, even if it had been awhile, and his powers could inspire disharmony amongst ponies. Still, to orchestrate political divisions that had been present for at least several centuries – centuries in which he had been frozen – would have required a level of foresight, planning, and manipulation beyond even Celestia’s ability. Ponies thought of alicorns as goddesses, but the Princesses denied such titles because they recognized their own limitations. Discord embraced the title “God of Chaos”, though… Perhaps his powers were beyond those of any one alicorn, even Celestia.

Twilight filed the idea away for later. Perhaps Discord was the culprit, but she had learned to quit jumping to conclusions that could damage friendships, and as annoying as he could be sometimes, Discord was her friend. Accusing him of orchestrating a race war and civil war simultaneously would very likely destroy their friendship. Who did that, anyway?

“Do you two have plans today?” she decided to ask, “I don’t want to butt in, of course, but… Well, I’m kind of lonely.”

“What else is new?” Discord asked with a smirk, earning a shy elbow to the ribs that even an immortal spirit of chaos could feel, “Er, I mean… Fluttershy and I were only going to have a tea party, maybe cause some mischief. I have to attend a conference tomorrow.”

Twilight raised a skeptical eyebrow and even Fluttershy looked unconvinced.

“I’m serious!” Discord scoffed, “I do have a job. Sort of.”

“I wasn’t aware being the God of Chaos involved conferences,” Twilight murmured.

“He makes copies of himself and does all sorts of wacky antics,” Fluttershy whispered and giggled to her friend, “He calls it ‘Me Time’.”

“My dear, you really shouldn’t share all my secrets,” Discord chortled, “Is there anything you would like to do, Princess?”

“Well, what do you two normally do?” Twilight asked.

Fluttershy and Discord went bug-eyed, sparing a quick glance at each other.

“Nothing,” they said quickly.

Twilight opened her mouth to ask, then shook her head.

“How about we have a spa day with the others?” Twilight suggested.

“That sounds nice,” Fluttershy smiled, then frowned, “But what about Discord?”

“I don’t see why he can’t come along,” Twilight smirked, “Surely the God of Chaos wouldn’t mind a little pampering…”

“Why, I’m flattered!” Discord chuckled, “I always assumed you never invited me because you were embarrassed of me.”

“It wouldn’t be very friendly of me if I did that,” the Princess giggled, “Now, let’s enjoy the day!”

Twilight led the way to their friends’ houses around Ponyville, trying to ignore the mounting tension of the towns-ponies and wondering when news would arrive from Canterlot. Hopefully a royal decree would set everything right.


…


“Your technique is sloppy,” Trixie noted, slurping on the straw of her drink. It was one of Flim and Flam’s latest creations. How they found time to make new drinks was beyond her, but darn it all if they didn’t make catchy slogans and interesting flavors.

Before her lay the heap of squires, glaring up at her. Night Bane stood over them, sword in his muzzle and raising a skeptical eyebrow at the magician.

“Like you know anything about martial arts forms…” Scootaloo muttered, picking herself up. Why was she surprised their instructor had floored the five of them? Sure, they had numbers, but he was considered one of the few knights left in Equestria for a reason.

“Of course Trixie does,” Trixie snorted, hopping from the bleachers and levitating Flim’s sword before her. In a surprising bout of strokes and parries, she demonstrated the correct technique before returning it to Flim’s side. “Trixie might not be a fighter, but if there’s one thing she understands, it’s show-pony-ship and sleight-of-hoof.

“That’s all well and good, but you can’t expect us to keep up those forms in the heat of battle!” Flam cried.

Trixie sighed and rolled her eyes, taking up Flim’s sword.

“If you require a demonstration, Trixie will oblige,” she murmured, “En garde.”

Flam furrowed his brow and performed their usual practice strokes against the magician. Frustratingly, the blue unicorn executed the counterstrokes perfectly, years of working complicated card-shuffling giving her magic a dexterity and finesse the twins lacked. Flam increased the pace and the magician matched it. Finally, his frustration blinded him and she whacked him on the shoulder.

“Whoops,” she smirked, reveling in his glaring.

“You should be a squire with us!” Scootaloo beamed, “That was amazing!”

“Trixie is quite amazing, yes,” the magician giggled, “but she simply isn’t interested. Besides, perfecting the forms is only one part of it; don’t you also have to be willing to get hurt and fight monsters and stuff? Trixie might be many things, but brave she is not.”

“You went into the changeling hive to save Equestria, and all you had were smoke bombs,” Spike pointed out, “I think that’s pretty brave.”

“Starlight seems to have a thing for charmers…” Trixie chortled before looking over her shoulder to make sure the other unicorn wasn’t nearby, “Anyway, Trixie has no interest in knights or war. She certainly has no interest in being hit by sticks.”

“That’s probably best,” Night Bane grunted, unable to prevent the smile on his face at seeing his students humbled, “It’s almost time for Princess Celestia’s class. You girls should get ready.”

The squires cleaned up and divided into their usual class groups. Flim, Flam, and the Crusaders trotted to the Celestia’s classroom, discussing their grades and new strategies for studying. Only Apple Bloom excelled at the subjects, but her gumption and ability teetered on the unnatural. The twins were in the middle of discussing how to apply their lessons to business ethics, since the Princess of the Day had begun assigning them more work in that area, when the group arrived at the classroom only to be greeted by Gutsy Gust.

“Apologies,” the pegasus muttered in the slurring speech he rarely used. In the entire time he’d been ‘protecting’ Flim and Flam, he had spoken less than a hundred words. “Princess Celestia has canceled class today. She is making an important announcement soon. You are welcome to attend.”

“Must be important,” Flam muttered.

“That’s the most you’ve spoken since we’ve arrived!” Flim agreed.

“I wonder if this has to do with the republic?” Apple Bloom mused.

Gutsy Gust tensed, his eyes blazing with scorn for only an instant before he returned to his usual, lackluster appearance.

“If you wish to attend the proclamation,” he muttered again, “follow me.”

The Royal Guard led the way to the main hall where the Princesses often dealt with their subjects, and the students followed with nothing better to do. The hall was filled with members of the administration, diplomats, representatives from every city-state, prominent members of society from nobility to wealthy business-ponies to politicians. Prince Blueblood himself had arrived, looking as self-absorbed as always. The students joined their fellow Ponyville citizens near the back. Princess Luna sat, sanguinely, in her throne, avoiding looking at her sister, yet also keeping her face blank of emotion.

Celestia herself was resplendent, radiating light. Starlight and the others had been gaping and now the friendship students could see why: the Princess of the Day had donned golden armor, ceremonial and expertly engraved with runic script. Resting upon her shoulders was thick cape of shimmering fabric that flowed in a similar manner as her mane, though in the colors of a blazing fire – reds, oranges, yellows, and whites. Upon her head, a newer, more impressive tiara, fashioned as a laurel wreath with a strange winged-horn icon at its apex. Luna wore her usual garb, which had always seemed stunning and yet now insufficient compared to her sister’s ensemble.

None gathered knew it, save for the Princesses and their personal aides and servants, but two suits of armor, two capes, and two crowns had been fashioned long ago for just such a moment as this and set aside while the Princesses matured. The intent was that one day they would both feel ready to claim the title of Queen, but neither had seen the point of it – especially since one had been banished for most of their reign. Now the garb was being taken up for them to claim the titles of Empresses, but Luna had refused to don a symbol of authoritarianism as ostentatious as that. Celestia grimaced inwardly, realizing how ridiculous she looked standing there, the only one of the co-regents dressed in such a manner. Worse, she realized many of her subjects were looking up at her with renewed awe, basking in her glory as if she were the goddess they made her out to be.

Celestia suppressed the bile such a realization formed in the back of her throat, suppressed her disgust and shame, and used her powerful sorcery to open twin portals to the locations of the two absent Alicorn Princesses. Cutting through the air, these shimmering circles showed the stunned visages of Twilight Sparkle in the middle of Ponyville, trotting with her friends towards the spa, and an exhausted Cadence rocking Flurry Heart asleep, Shining Armor and Sunburst beside her.

“Aunt – I mean – Princess,” Cadence bowed and Twilight mirrored the motion, “What is the meaning of this?”

“News travels too slowly between the Crystal Empire and Equestria,” Celestia’s voice carried with the strength of the Royal Voice without any of its overbearing forcefulness, “I have an important decree for all pony city-states, and there can be no delay. Through the millennia, the lands of ponies have been bound through friendship and harmony, but in recent years this has not been enough.

“Our lands have often been beset by foreign enemies and their intrigues, and our citizens have often been pitted against one another out of petty rivalries. No more shall these divisions be allowed. This is a call to all of the pony city-states to honor their vows and submit to the Twin Crowns of Equestria. I, and my sister Luna, are henceforth claiming the titles of Empresses of the Equestrian Empire and consolidating political authority towards Canterlot. Every city-state, from Manehattan in the east to Vanhoover in the west, from the far-off islands of Nippony to the deserts of Saddle Arabia, and every land where pony has laid hoof, shall reaffirm their vows to us and unite as one, glorious nation.

“We do this not to seize power. We have governed from afar, offering great personal freedom to the city-states, for over a thousand years. We unite and centralize power now only at the behest of our subjects, in response to fears that such disharmony would leave us weakened against foreign enemies. Now we shall be united, and in our unity, we shall be secure.”

Celestia patiently waited as her booming voice’s echoes died out and the effect of her words finished settling into the hearts and minds of all present. Twilight and Cadence looked as dumbfounded as her subjects looked awed or horrified. After a pause that crawled on like eternity, the Germane representative stepped forward.

“Although I have no power in the decision my Lord will make, I am certain he will honor his vows to the Princesses – nay! – to the Empresses!” he swore, “If they do not, have no doubt that I shall!”

“The same goes for Saddle Arabia, Celestia willing!” the Saddle Arabian representative, newly-arrived, assured her.

At once the representatives from imperial city-states affirmed their loyalty to the Equestrian Empire, certain their city-states would make the right decision. Only Trottingham and a few others hesitated; the republican city-states stayed completely silent about their loyalty, eyes locked onto Spring Dahlias.

“Centralizing governmental control back to the nobility and our monarchs is all well and good,” the Trottingham representative began slowly, looking to his fellow holdouts, “but some city-states will be concerned about economic freedoms and the rights of non-nobles to generate capital for themselves.”

“You need not fear, Sir Redcoat,” Celestia smiled, softly, her radiance not diminished in the slightest by so humane an action, “I modeled the Equestrian Empire’s constitution on the Trottingham model. There are some emergency powers we, the Princesses, and the nobility can implement in times of emergency, but by and large, lawmaking will remain with the hands of local governments, and businesses will be free to practice with minimal regulation. I am sorry to say that some industries have become corrupt, and a firmer hoof will be needed to steer them back to a system of justice and harmony.”

The republican city-state representatives exchanged mixed looks, some warily approving Celestia’s move, others sickened by it. The imperial holdouts looked concerned by regulation.

“Is it really necessary to regulate industries?” Sir Redcoat asked, licking his lips. He not only represented the city-state, but the Trottingham Trading Company, which had monopolized maritime trade and strangled competition. The TTC was exactly the kind of business that Celestia would regulate, and that meant Sir Redcoat was liable to lose bits…

“Most businesses will only have to meet a standard set by the newly-created Imperial Friendly Finances Administration,” Celestia explained, patiently, a dark glint in her eye as she stared down the imperial holdouts, “Some businesses with a… shall we say, overwhelming control, will be absorbed by the Empire and used for the benefit of all of Equestria. Trottingham has nothing to fear from this, for all those with economic interests will be offered equivalent positions in the nationalized business, or financial compensation. These changes will be few and far between, and will open business positions to ponies of all classes – provided they are approved by the Imperial Friendly Finances Administration. Surely a loyal city-state, supporting the Empire and the Empresses, will not mind this small cessation of control? After all, it is the basis for the imperial system you claim to support.”

“Hear! Hear!” one of the republican city-states muttered, darkly, glad to see the imperial holdouts put on the fire. The loyal imperial city-states eyed the holdouts with cold suspicion; the republicans eyed them with contempt.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Sir Redcoat bowed at last, feeling cold inside, “Trottingham will almost assuredly submit to the Equestrian Empire. We are loyal to the Twin Crowns.”

“Excellent,” the dark glint in Celestia’s eye disappeared and she was back to her usual, benevolent self, radiating goodwill. She turned her gaze to the republican city-states, expectantly. “The offer is still open, and I would urge you to take it.”

“We appreciate it, Your Majesty,” Spring Dahlias bowed her head, slightly, quite at odds with the deep bows the other ponies performed, “We are democratic city-states, however, and as such, we reserve our oaths of loyalty until our city-states are properly appraised of the situation and our citizens have had a chance to vote on the issue.”

Celestia only nodded, seeing the resolve in their eyes. If every pony in their city-states was like them, it was almost certain they would secede.

“I wish to add something,” Luna spoke up and Celestia suppressed a creeping dread. Allowing the newly-raised Empress of the Night to take the center of the stage, Celestia returned to her throne, feeling even more ridiculous in her golden plates and jewels. Luna stood tall, her face stoic and with reserved passion. “It is my fervent hope that Equestria will one day be united in its entirety, and that all ponies will be free to travel between these lands that the moon and sun shed light upon. It is imperative that all ponies, regardless of caste or city-state, be given the right to decide their own fate.”

The republican ponies, including Starlight and many of the Night Guards, nodded at her words. Spike found himself frowning at the use of ‘ponies’ without ‘and non-ponies’ following. Neither Empress had mentioned the non-ponies. He was the only non-pony present, but he had worked to draft that constitution as hard as the ponies in the group.

“And, should this debate result in an unfortunate division of our lands,” Luna continued, “it is my fervent hope and my most humble request that whatever nations are born out of it will allow dual-citizenship to all ponies, rather than turn their brothers and sisters away out of petty politics.”

Celestia writhed on the inside, resentful that her co-regent would ever entertain the very real possibility of secession aloud. It was tactless and blunt, but then again, that had always been Luna’s style… All the same, Celestia agreed with the sentiment.

“Agreed,” the Empress of the Day nodded, “We shall see to it – if such an eventuality were to occur – that it will be as painless as possible for Equestria’s citizens.”

Secretly, both Empresses wondered if they could keep such a promise…

“Princess Cadence,” Celestia turned her attention to the portals, “Princess Twilight… You are the rulers of the Crystal Empire and Ponyville, respectively. Being Alicorn Princesses, your overall control will stretch to city-states beyond those territories. It is a great responsibility, but I am certain you are ready for it. We will await your formal oaths of loyalty to the Equestrian Empire.”

“Aunt… I mean, Empress Celestia…” Cadence was wide-eyed while her male companions were speechless, “This is so sudden. I wasn’t even aware there were issues occurring in the south.”

“All will be fine, Cadence,” Celestia assured her, “I can count on your loyalty to Equestria, of course?”

Cadence hesitated. She didn’t have a full picture of the situation, but if her aunts were in agreement – which appeared to be the case – then she would trust their decision.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” the pink alicorn bowed, “The Crystal Empire will join the Equestrian Empire.”

“Excellent,” Celestia said in a sigh of relief, “And you, my faithful student?”

“I am confident every pony will be pleased to be part of a larger community!” Twilight said, putting on a too-large smile. In the corner of the portal, Celestia could see Fluttershy look away from the Princess of Friendship, but her pink mane hid her expression. Unknown to the alicorns, the pegasus had looked away in disgust. “I, myself, will certainly follow any path you set.”

“Wonderful,” Celestia beamed. With three alicorns for the Empire, and the republican city-states yet to vote, Celestia was confident Luna’s silly republican ambitions would fall apart quickly. “Now, if there is nothing else, I will close this-”

“Wait!” a quiet voice sounded. Soft as it was, it carried through the chamber and stunned even the Empress of the Day. In the portal, Fluttershy had stepped forward, gently shouldering a shocked Twilight aside. Celestia’s eyes widened a fraction at the resolve in the pegasus’ own.

“Yes, Fluttershy?” the Empress asked.

“I want to be independent,” she said, simply.

Celestia blinked.

“You are a citizen of Ponyville and Equestria, though,” she pointed out, “You have obligations to your city-state and to your country. You must respect the decisions of your leaders.”

“Decisions I had no say in!” Fluttershy stamped her hoof, eliciting gasps of shock from the imperial representatives, “Twilight is free to join your Empire, and any pony who wants to follow her can do so, but I’ve learned that I shouldn’t be pressured into doing what others tell me to do if it makes me feel uncomfortable, and submitting myself – or the lands I’ve set up for wildlife – to an Empire where ponies don’t have a voice in government makes me very, very uncomfortable!”

“You cannot live isolated…” Celestia said, irritation evident in her voice, “What about your friends? What about your family?”

“Am I not allowed to visit them simply because I don’t live in the Empire?” Fluttershy cocked an eyebrow, surprisingly brave. It took a supreme effort for some of those in the crowd not to applaud her while others gasped at the audacity. “I do not take up any of Equestria’s resources. I live in the wilds, away from Equestria’s industries and cities. I trade for supplies rather than make wages, so I don’t have to pay taxes. Besides the fact I was born in Cloudsdale and am a registered citizen of Ponyville, there’s nothing tying me to Equestria; therefore, why do I need to be a part of it? Why can’t I be considered a foreign national?”

“How in Equestria do you know all this stuff?” Twilight muttered beside her.

“I dabbled in some of your law books after Starlight and you got into that fight,” the pegasus answered, simply.

“Those lands you inhabit may be wild,” Celestia smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “but they belong to Equestria. They are in our protection.”

“I don’t see any walls closing them in,” Fluttershy said, defiantly, “I don’t see any guards out here. What are you protecting, anyway? These creatures are under constant threat from rampant business practices, pollution, and violence!”

“Fluttershy, I am your Empress…” Celestia warned, “I can take those lands by force – you know I can.”

“Oh can you?” a voice echoed around the chamber, causing ponies to look around in a panic as chocolate milk rain fell from nowhere. Celestia glared at the abomination that appeared in front of her. “Hello Tia, long time, no see!”

“Discord…” Celestia muttered, “What do you want?”

“To negotiate a settlement for Fluttershy’s sovereignty,” the draconequues chuckled.

“And why should I negotiate?” Celestia asked, cautiously, “Are you here to threaten war if I don’t let your filly-friend have her land?”

“Filly-friend?” Fluttershy’s cheeks flushed more at the fact Celestia callously declared them as such than the insinuation they were romantically involved.

“No, no, nothing so crass!” Discord waved a hand, “Can you all give us some privacy?” With a snap of his fingers, everyone except for himself, the Empresses, and those in the portals was teleported outside of the hall. “Now then, I believe you should know that I have been offered a wonderful seat on the Orduud – those non-ponies you’ve so expertly displeased.”

“…And?” Celestia asked, sighing at how thoroughly-ruined her proclamation had become.

“…And I’m willing to refuse allying with them and sign whatever silly non-aggression pact you want me to,” Discord said, a mischievous smile growing on his face, “provided you allow Fluttershy her independence and her lands as a protected, sovereign nation for her and her creatures.”

“You’re kidding,” Celestia gaped.

“I would take that offer,” Luna said, “If Discord allies with the Orduud and we ever had to go to war… I’m confident in our abilities, but I would not invite unnecessary destruction unto our lands.”

“There are valuable resources in those woodlands,” Celestia said, “resources Equestria has a claim to.”

“Tell that to the buffaloes,” Discord said, darkly, “How about I throw in another consideration? If you do not grant this request, not only will I side with the Orduud, but I’ll simply teleport Fluttershy’s forest lands – resources and all – to my dimension? Then Equestria will have a hole in the ground large enough to make the Ghastly Gorge look like a crack in the sidewalk!”

“Alright, fine!” Celestia snorted, her irritation boiling over again, “Fluttershy, your lands will be protected. I will sign the law into effect as Discord signs the non-aggression pact. But Discord?”

“Yes Tia?” the God of Chaos asked, amused.

“Never threaten me – or Equestria,” the Empress of the Day said, quietly and with the intensity of ten thousand white hot suns, “ever again.”

Discord’s smile faded along with his amusement. Some concern crept into his eyes as he looked between the sisters.

“What happened to you two?” he asked, quietly, half to himself, “No matter. A deal’s a deal, Your Majesty. I bid you adieu.”

The Lord of Chaos rolled in on himself and disappeared into thin air. An instant later, Fluttershy vanished just as suddenly, startling the Princess of Friendship standing beside her. Before Celestia could sigh in frustration, the doors to the hall finally opened and the Royal Guards who had been pushing on them with all their might tumbled in a heap, a crowd of displaced politicians and notables following closely. Starlight and the other students made it over the heap and ahead of the rush, bowing as they came close to the dais upon which the sisters stood.

“Princ- I mean, Empresses!” Starlight said, “Are you alright?”

“We are, Starlight,” Celestia said, “We reached an agreement on Fluttershy’s estate.”

“Indeed,” Luna strode beside her sister and spoke loud enough for the representatives to hear, “Fluttershy has earned her sovereignty, and she does not even have a city-state behind her. Surely this a first in pony history.”

Celestia looked at her younger sister, her eyes burning with betrayal and rage, but her face utterly placid. For her part, Luna only smirked triumphantly at her sister. The news that a single pegasus had claimed independence for her lands would inspire hundreds, if not thousands of ponies to secede even if their city-states did not. Celestia was almost seeing red, unsure whether she was more infuriated with her sister’s insolence or Discord’s interference.

“Fluttershy has her own country?” Spike’s eyes widened.

“It’s… more like a nature reserve,” Celestia forced a smile onto her face, her mind cooking up an excuse, “In fact, I intend to knight her and charge her with its protection.”

The look of shock on Luna’s face was worth it and the Empress of the Day’s smile became genuine.

“I thought you had to train to become a knight?” Scootaloo asked.

“Knight is a title that can be rewarded as well as attained,” Celestia explained, “and some things have changed since my sister’s punishment. For instance, there are different ways to attain knighthood, all of which are for service to the crown – mine or another Princess’. Why, Sir Redcoat here was knighted for being a skilled diplomat.”

“It’s true,” the Trottingham stallion chuckled, pleased to have been mentioned.

“What about dashing good looks?” Flam asked.

“And daring bravado?” Flim asked right on top of his brother.

“That’s all well and good, but be realistic,” Celestia said, causing the squires’ cheeks to flush in embarrassment, “Do you see any stallions prancing about in shining armor besides the Royal Guard? No. Do you want to know why knightly orders were disbanded?”

“Why?” Big Mac asked.

“Because they were unnecessary and ineffective,” Celestia said simply, “Their training was costly – it’s far cheaper and easier to train and outfit a unit of soldiers than it is to invest a lifetime of training into a single combatant. The only reason I wanted you to take the chivalry course was because of the ethics the class taught. Knights are supposed to have a respect for the nobility, tactfulness in diplomacy, and a working education in all things.”

“I see you’ve turned knights from the adventuring heroes of yore,” Luna said, disdainfully, “into a throwaway title for bureaucrats.”

“Equestria no longer requires swashbuckling, cavalier brutes running around looking for trouble, sister,” Celestia snapped, “We are entering a civilized age. I expected your classes to reflect that…”

“We were interested in the class because of the swashbuckling,” Scootaloo explained, chuckling nervously when Celestia turned her eyes upon her, “I’m not really interested in jobs that aren’t, well… active.”

“There are plenty of jobs in Equestria for that,” the Empress of the Day dismissed the filly’s opinion, turning to the greater part of her subjects, “Return to your city-states. They have until the end of the month to declare their loyalty or independence; let them know there is no pressure, but that for every city-state that abandons Equestria, we shall be weaker for it. The Royal Guard will be constructed into the Imperial Guard. Control of city-states will fall back into the care of the nobles, but each city-state may appoint civilian representatives to a new political forum we’re creating to help balance the power of nobles and even Princesses and Empresses.”

“A new political forum?” Spring Dahlias asked, cautiously. Luna felt her heart sink, worried that the republican city-states would get cold feet and simply submit to the Empire.

“Indeed,” Celestia nodded, “It is called a senate. Due to complaints by many of our subjects that authoritarian rule is unjust – and indeed, it is certainly more than a little unfair – I, um, we thought it would be best to have a body of politicians from each city-state to represent them in the overall governance of the Empire.”

“And how will they be appointed?” Spring Dahlias challenged, “Who are they representing? The common ponies?”

“They will be appointed as their city-states see fit: noble approval or election,” Celestia explained, patiently. Her sister had inspired a severe disrespect in alicorns, apparently…

“But you already said the Princesses and nobles will have control of the city-states again,” Spring Dahlias pointed out, gritting her teeth, “Can they override democratic institutions?”

Celestia felt her jaw harden.

“Yes,” she said, simply. The republican city-state representatives turned away and began to file out, bitterness etched into their faces. “I have not dismissed this lobby, yet.”

“With all due respect, Empress,” Spring Dahlias only half-turned back, “many of us have a long way to travel in order to pass this information to our city-states. It’s best not to dally.”

Celestia bit her tongue and let them file out. Only one remained, talking to the students. She thanked and dismissed the imperial city-state representatives who bowed graciously and departed. She waited until the students left with their representative friend and the doors were shut before rounding on her sister. Luna wore a confident smirk, challenging her sister with a dark glint in her eye. Celestia shuddered in barely-suppressed rage before turning and leaving herself.

Luna sat back in her throne, reveling in this small victory. Her sister looked like a dictator, even to some of her ‘loyal’ city-states and the Princesses had looked uncomfortable with the decision. In time, as the economic and political backlash did its work, Luna was confident more and more would join the Equestrian Republic. Oh, it wasn’t official yet, but Luna had seeded the groundwork, delivering the constitution and a working layout to Spring Dahlias and the other representatives in a secret meeting.

Luna had even dropped hints on a certain mare to be appointed to office, though that mare was completely unaware of such designs…


…


“Sunburst,” Cadence said, not looking away from the point where the portal had been, “you’ve been in regular contact with Starlight, correct? And she has been staying in Canterlot this past week?”

“Y-yes, Your Highness,” the Crystaller blinked, surprised at the question.

“Has she mentioned any of this tension?” the Princess of Love turned to face her subject, seeing Shining Armor’s alert concern.

“No!” Sunburst shook his head, “Well, she has mentioned all her involvement in political courses and helping draft a constitution for a republic, but I never got the impression from her letters that there was a serious division or conflict! We’re pretty isolated up here, so this is the first time I’m even hearing about any of this!”

“This is bad…” Cadence murmured, “I sensed a lot of love lost between my aunts. I’m worried this could escalate.”

“It won’t come to anything too bad, dear,” Shining Armor assured her, “Even if the Empresses came to blows, the Royal – I guess Imperial – Guard would never turn on itself. We’re brothers in arms!”

“I hope you’re right,” Cadence looked down on Flurry Heart with worry, “This is not the environment I would want to bring our daughter up in…”


…


“I can’t believe Appleloosa sent you as a representative, cuz,” Big Mac said, “How long have you been here?”

“Just rolled in yesterday, actually,” Braeburn sighed, “It’s a plum right mess. Sheriff Silverstar couldn’t make heads nor tails out of all this, but we worked hard to build ourselves a sovereign city-state, and none of us are too keen on the idea of bowing down to some nobles we ain’t never heard of.”

“Aren’t you loyal to the Princesses, though?” Sweetie Belle asked, “Or, I guess, the Empresses?”

“Well, I’ve always considered myself faithful to them,” Braeburn shrugged, feeling put on the spot.

“But only when it’s convenient?” Sweetie asked, earning a glare from Apple Bloom, “What? I’m just pointing out that every pony was loyal to Celestia, but as soon as she tries to unite Equestria, half of them don’t want to follow her. It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Bah, you’re just a foal,” Braeburn shook his head, “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Well, I’m a stallion and I’m inclined to agree with the filly,” Flam said.

“Oh, you only want to support Celestia because you’re sweet on her,” Flim rolled his eyes, “I support free enterprise, and so I support these republic fellows. They seem to appreciate entrepreneurs such as ourselves!”

“I thought we agreed not to limit ourselves?” Flam pulled his brother aside, though the rest of the group could still hear their argument.

“I happen to still be interested in making bits, brother,” Flim jabbed a hoof into his twin’s chest, “and I know you do, too. You might be fine with Celestia trying to turn us into her new financial thing-a-ma-bobs, but I don’t want any part of it! This whole school thing is boring. There’s no risk, no thrill, no profit – and no peach-tone farm filly!”

Big Mac raised an eyebrow at that but the twins were still oblivious that every pony could hear them.

“Well, I’m not leaving Celestia’s side if I can help it!” Flam said, defiantly, “We have a good thing here, brother. We’re housed, we’re fed, and we’re being giving promising careers! Aren’t you sick of running around all over heck and creation, swindling ponies out of bits only to blow our fortunes? Don’t you think it’s time we finally build up a fortune with a purpose?”

“Say it ain’t so, brother, but you’re starting to sound sedentary!” Flim gasped, “Do my ears deceive me or are you truly wanting us to settle?!”

“I like it in Canterlot,” Flam blew his moustaches out, “and I’m tired of running; we’re not getting any younger! Think for a moment, Flim; would joining the republic really be profitable? Who cares if they don’t regulate business-ponies! You’ve paid attention in class, surely – you know that’s a disaster!”

“My ears!” Flim covered his ears, wincing, “I think they’re bleeding!”

“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic!” Flam shook his head, “Forget it! Go off and join those starry-eyed dreamers, but when they fall flat on their face, don’t come crying to me!”

“And that goes double for you!” Flim retorted.

“Yeesh, is this going to happen with all of you?” Scootaloo asked, noticing that Flam and Sweetie Belle had unconsciously grouped closer together, while Starlight, Flim, and the Apples had separated themselves. Only she and Spike bridged the gap, neither of them picking a side. Trixie stayed by Starlight’s side, naturally, but didn’t look interested one way or the other.

“No, we can stay civil,” Starlight said, confidently, “After all, we’re all friends, right? Even if we move to the Republic – if it even forms! – or stay in the Empire, that won’t change. It’d be no different than having friends in Griffonstone or the Dragon Lands; just because we’re in a different land doesn’t mean we can’t be friends, right?”

“Right…” the twins murmured, reluctantly.

“Big Macintosh,” Braeburn turned towards his cousins, "Apple Bloom… I got no right asking you to get involved, but I don’t want to see our family divided over this. When the Republic is formed, will you join us?”

“How do you know it will be formed?” Starlight asked.

“I… I can’t say, not yet anyway,” Braeburn confessed. Secret meetings with the Empress of the Night were secret for a reason, especially when one of the subjects discussed was the pink unicorn.

“What if Ponyville doesn’t join?” Apple Bloom asked.

“If Ponyville joins the Empire instead,” Braeburn grimaced, “I was hoping you guys would move to Appleloosa to support the Republic.”

“Leave Ponyville?!” Apple Bloom gaped, “I can’t do that! All my friends, my school… everything!”

“Apple Bloom, you’ve already left all that behind,” Starlight pointed out, “All that would happen is a separation from your friends, and I’m sure you can visit each other. Of course… you would have to leave the farm…”

“There’s no way I’m leaving,” Apple Bloom shook her head, wrapping her forelegs around Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle, “The Cutie Mark Crusaders will never split up, not permanently!”

“My sis is right,” Big Mac said, “She can’t be expected to leave everything behind. But… I can.”

Everyone turned in surprise towards the stallion except Braeburn who smiled in approval.

“Big Macintosh…” Apple Bloom became teary-eyed at the prospect of her brother, who had always been a stable constant in her life, suddenly disappearing. Not for the first time she wondered if she had taken his presence for granted all her years.

“Don’t fret, Apple Bloom,” Big Mac smiled, “I’ll visit often.”

“I appreciate this, cuz,” Braeburn sighed in relief, then turned towards Starlight, “Would you join the Republic? They say you will, but I’ve never met you, so I don’t have a measure of your commitment yet.”

“I helped draft the constitution,” Starlight said, “and I won’t participate in another dictatorship. Wait, ‘they say’? Who are ‘they’?”

“Uh…” Braeburn’s pupils shrunk, “That’s not important. Anyway, I’m glad I could talk to you guys again before I left. Tell Applejack and Granny Smith I said ‘hi’.”

Before Apple Bloom could open her mouth, Braeburn galloped out of there. The filly turned her eyes back on Starlight in curiosity, but the unicorn was just as confused as she was. Big Mac made a move to talk to her, but she turned away from him, too angry to deal with him at that moment.

“Come on, girls,” she muttered, “we have class.”

Scootaloo opened her mouth to point out they still had an hour before classes started, but Sweetie Belle stopped her, so the fillies simply filed out in silence. Flim and Flam glared at one another sullenly, deciding to follow the fillies.

“I think every pony’s taking it pretty well,” Trixie said with a weak smile, trying to break the tension.

“Yeah,” Spike muttered, looking at the ceiling of the castle’s halls, “…every pony.”


…


“Oh, why hello there, Twilight!” Rarity smiled while answering the door, “We were just about to invite you on a day out on the town.”

“We?” the Princess of Friendship briefly forgot her dilemma to look past the fashionista and see Rainbow Dash waving back.

“Yes, Rainbow Dash came by for a visit and we agreed it would be a good idea to get you away from your books and Applejack away from her farm for a little bit,” Rarity offered a sad smile, “You are both quite lonely these days.”

“That…” Twilight hesitated. It’d be easier to explain if she had all her friends together, so she forced a smile. “Actually, we should get the others; I have something important to tell all of you.”

“Pinkie Pie is hanging out with her sister at Sweet Apple Orchard,” Rainbow Dash explained, “We were going to meet up at the castle, but I guess we can head over there. I’m not sure where Fluttershy is.”

“Fluttershy won’t be joining us,” Twilight scowled, “I’ll explain when we’re all together. Rainbow Dash, can you get them to meet us in the town hall? I need to make an announcement to my subjects.”

Rainbow Dash and Rarity exchanged concerned looks, but the pegasus agreed and flew off to accomplish her task, sensing the urgency of the situation. The unicorn followed the Princess to town hall, waiting as Twilight explained the Mayor Mare and her assistants how dire the situation was. Without giving anything away, she convinced them to set about getting the word out. Within the hour, most of town arrived in the square before the town hall, her friends included. Twilight took the stage, Mayor Mare behind and to her side.

“Citizens of Ponyville,” Twilight decreed in her Royal Voice, “The Princesses have united the various pony city-states into the Equestrian Empire and crowned themselves the Empresses. Changes in government will have to be made, but I want you to know that your day-to-day lives will be unchanged.”

The crowd erupted into confused murmuring and furious glares. Twilight saw every range of reactions. Some ponies were surprised, thinking the prospect of unification as unlikely, not believing the rumors that had been circulating. The vast majority, however, were split between smug sneers of accomplishment or bitter glares of resentment. Bon-Bon was an exception, being a known Celestia supporter and yet accepting the birth of the Empire as if it were just another moment of little consequence. Octavia smirked at her roommate, who only looked away in disgust. Some, like the Cakes, were worried at the rising tension. Others, like Dr. Hooves and Derpy, simply moved on, taking it all in stride.

Now came the hard part, Twilight realized.

“I should also mention that there’s a faction of city-states attempting to create a republic,” the Princess explained, “and they will likely accept any pony who wishes to join. I would encourage you all to stay loyal to the Empresses, but I can’t stop you if you want to leave… I’m confident that both groups – Republic and Empire – will stay peaceful and allow an exchange of citizens and goods, so it shouldn’t be too inconvenient.”

“Why isn’t Ponyville joining the Republic?” Vinyl Scratch demanded, her question met with a chorus of similar questions.

“Because I’ve decided it’s best to stay loyal to Celestia and to Equestria,” Twilight snorted. What a silly question.

“Mayor Mare leads Ponyville,” Cranky Doodle pointed out, “You’re the Princess of Friendship, not Ponyville.”

“The Princesses rule Equestria,” Twilight frowned, “I mean, that is what the title implies, isn’t it?”

“I say that’s for Mayor Mare to decide!” another pony cried out, and dozens more shouted agreement.

“Princess, if you wouldn’t mind?” the Mayor whispered. Twilight moved closer, listening to her quiet words. “Ponyville isn’t like most other city-states, as you know. We had a tradition of elected offices and ponies having a voice in government before you came here, but we’re also loyal to the Princesses…”

“Empresses,” Twilight corrected.

“Ah, yes, right,” Mayor Mare giggled, “We’re loyal, make no mistake, and you are a Princess whose castle is in Ponyville. Technically, Ponyville falls to you, but if you ignore our tradition of more active leadership by the ponies in government, well… the citizens will be restless. I recommend you declare Ponvyille as a neutral city-state – a bridge between the two extremes. You are the Princess of Friendship, and from what I know of the situation, most of those in favor of starting a Republic are west of us…”

“I… suppose that could work,” Twilight grimaced. She saw the logic, but allowing Ponvyille to not be loyal to the Empire felt like a betrayal against Celestia, “I guess I don’t want my subjects being unhappy or trying to revolt. Alright, we’ll try it.” Forcing a smile on her face, Twilight returned to her subjects who were now divided into their two camps. “Ponyville will stay neutral!”

The two camps eyed the Princess in surprise, then each other in confusion. The republic-supporters seemed disgruntled, but their anger was subdued; the empire-supporters looked disappointed. Bon-Bon seemed annoyed, but accepting. Twilight wondered if every pony hated compromises. Then again, she’d rather have every pony slightly disappointed then one side feeling horribly wronged. The crowds dispersed after a time of asking questions the Princess had no answers to, and soon it was only Twilight and her friends again.

“Well, that was a lot to take in…” Rarity muttered.

“Yeah, I feel like a balloon that’s been stretched almost to popping!” Pinkie Pie clutched her head in her hooves, “Now I feel like all that air’s been let out. What a bummer!”

“It’ll get better,” Twilight lied. At least, it felt like a lie to her.

“Twilight,” Rainbow Dash said, all seriousness, “where’s Fluttershy?”

Her friends all turned their eyes on her and the Princess felt herself tense. Slowly, she told them about the pegasus’ bid for sovereignty…


…


Despite all the drama of the day, and the canceling of classes, Luna had been kind enough to keep her Monday magic course open. Trixie pranced in place, even more excited than Starlight to get started. Flim and Flam had reluctantly showed up, but eyed each other with disdain. Starlight was pleasantly surprised to see Spike join them, though she couldn’t fathom why he’d attend. Before she could ask, the Empress of the Night entered the courtyard where she had ordered them to meet.

“Good evening, students,” she greeted, her pleasant attitude quite at odds with the poorly-hidden anger Celestia had been strutting around with over the last week, “It astounds me how far we’ve come in such a short time. This is my first time teaching you on a Monday, yet it feels as if you have been here for months!”

“It’s… certainly been eventful,” Starlight offered a weak grin.

“It has indeed,” Luna smiled knowingly at the unicorn, though she couldn’t fathom why, “But let us not worry about politics for tonight. Spike, I am glad you’ve shown up. I can’t teach you anything about what you wanted to learn.”

“Oh…” the dragon looked crestfallen, but not particularly surprised.

“However, I did find this old book in my personal collection,” Luna smiled as she brought a book out of a collection she had brought with her and levitated it into his hands, “It’s in Old Ponish, but it’s a collection of old legends Starswirl’s mentor compiled when exploring the Dragon Lands.”

“…There’s some pony older than Starswirl?” Spike asked.

Mustn’t laugh… Luna strained herself.

“Indeed!” the Empress managed to say with a straight face, “Of course, this was but one of several mentors. Pity what happened to him.”

“What happened?” Sweetie Belle asked.

“Burnt to a crisp,” Luna explained, casually, “Fortunately, that journal survives, a wonderful written record about dragon cultural legends. I want you to have it, Spike.”

“I-I can’t just take this from you!” the dragon blushed in embarrassment, “I can’t even read Old Ponish very well.”

“’Very well’?” Sweetie repeated, “Wait, you can read Old Ponish?”

“Hardly,” Spike rubbed the back of his head.

“He’s being modest,” Starlight giggled, “He used to help Twilight and me translate old works.”

“Either way, you have more right to the book than any other creature in Ponyville,” Luna explained, “You are the only dragon who lives amongst our kind, and beyond a few scholars, there are no ponies with any interest in dragon legends. Even if you never read it, it would serve a greater purpose in your possession than sitting on a forgotten shelf in our library.”

“I…” Spike blushed, then bowed deeply, “Thank you, Empress Luna.”

“Please, don’t call me that,” Luna frowned, “All of you may call me Luna, if you wish.”

“I thought we had to refer to our instructors by their titles when in a classroom setting?” Flim asked.

“Normally that would not trouble me,” Luna sighed, “but I detest the title Empress, and my sister has revoked our titles as Princesses. Until I have a title I can respect, just Luna will do. Now, let us begin. Trixie?”

The blue unicorn blinked in surprise, having stayed silent and tense the entire time.

“Y-yes Princ- Emp- uh, Luna?” Trixie asked, visibly shaking.

“I have a good feeling about you for this kind of magic,” the Empress of the Night smiled, “for we shall be learning illusion magic.”

“I-illusion magic?” Trixie’s anxiety slowly became overridden with awe.

“Indeed,” Luna said, before eyeing Flam, “By any chance did my sister spend some time with you yesterday?”

“No,” Flam was taken by surprise.

“I knew she’d chicken out,” the alicorn muttered, “No matter! Look here, my little ponies, for this is an apple.”

Luna levitated a bright red apple before them. In an instant it became an orange and the students gasped. Somewhere in the castle, Apple Bloom’s ear twitched and she furrowed her brow. Dark magic was afoot against apples; she could just feel it. Back in the courtyard, Luna turned the apple into a variety of other objects.

“You can change apples into oranges?!” Trixie gaped.

“You can turn them into teacups, so why are you surprised?” Starlight asked.

“Because no pony can turn apples into oranges!” Trixie scoffed, “It’s impossible!”

Starlight opened her mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again.

“I did not perform a miracle, I assure you,” Luna giggled, “I have simply cast an illusion spell on the object, making it appear as something else.”

Luna explained the process in detail, and all the unicorns aside from Starlight were relieved at how simple it was. The ex-Princess placed a wooden block in front of each of them and let them go at it. She was pleased to see that Sweetie Belle’s rumored ineptitude for magic was greatly exaggerated – either that, or the filly had improved her abilities. Where Sweetie pulled off the trick with little strain, the twins struggled and got flustered, but Luna patiently walked them through it again until they got it right. Luna raised an eyebrow at the objects they had created: Flim had produced an apple, Flam a tiara. Moving onto Trixie, she saw the unicorn succeed in making the block look like a pink teacup.

“That’s very good, Trixie,” Luna beamed, “Now, every pony try and make the item look like something else.”

Starlight had absolutely no problem, getting bored with the simple spell and absentmindedly making the wooden block look like Twilight, Sunburst, Discord, and any pony else who came to mind. Sweetie succeeded in making her block look like her sister, which impressed Luna; the alicorn had assumed only Starlight had the skill to make a pony-sized illusion. The twins tried to make their blocks look like ponies too, but failing this they settled for plushies. Luna smirked at the Applejack and Celestia plushies, and at the heavy blushes on the abashed twins’ faces. Moving onto Trixie, Luna waited patiently but began to look concerned as she saw Trixie, teary-eyed, turn the wooden block into a teacup over and over again.

“Trixie, are you alright?” Luna asked.

“O-of course!” Trixie lied, sniffling, “I-I just need a moment to… concentrate.”

“Take your time, dear,” Luna smiled. She noticed the magician had dropped her use of third-person…

Trixie blinked at being called dear. Aside from Rarity and Discord’s attempts at being polite, she hadn’t heard anyone call her such in a long time. The magician inhaled to steady her breathing, then repositioned her stance. She waited for the moment when her mind was clear, struggling to suppress old memories. Rather than suppress them, she surrendered to them, letting old aches float through her. Without realizing it, she had made the wooden block look like a mare, the sight of which made her throat tighten up.

“Who is that?” Starlight asked, wondering why the mare was making Trixie react so. Whoever it was, she was pretty: orange coat, blonde hair, and a curious sunflower Cutie Mark. Her best quality, though, was the encouraging, loving smile on her face. In an instant, the illusion dissipated and Trixie stood there, paler than Starlight had seen her in a long time. “Trixie, are you alright?”

“What?” the magician blinked and shook her head, “Of course Trixie is alright! Why wouldn’t she be? She is simply… surprised she pulled off the magic trick so well.”

“You did a most exemplary job,” Luna agreed, “You should be proud of yourself. I think this has been enough for magic lessons tonight; practice this often and I am certain you will have it mastered by next week.”

The unicorns exchanged looks of surprise; the lesson had only lasted thirty minutes and had been relatively simple, but they all knew it was for Trixie’s benefit. The magician still looked strained, but no pony was going to press it. Luna put a comforting hoof on Trixie’s shoulder before departing. The twins and Sweetie Belle likewise left, and soon only Spike and Starlight were left in the courtyard with the blue unicorn.

“Who was she, Trix?” Spike asked. The unicorn stayed silent, so he grimaced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked such a personal-”

“My mom,” the magician interrupted, watching the stars.

“You’ve never talked about her,” Starlight noted, “Or your dad, come to think of it.”

“Let’s just say…” the unicorn sighed, “Trixie’s been avoiding them for some time.”

“Because you used to do some bad stuff?” Spike asked, “You’re friends and students with the Princesses! I’m sure they’d be impressed with you, not ashamed.”

“Trixie has not seen her mother for several years, not since she was a filly,” Trixie explained, still stargazing, “and her father rarely showed up even then.”

“How… did you and your mother get separated when you were just a filly?” Starlight asked, afraid of the answer.

Trixie hesitated, but figured she could confide in her best friend. And Spike, too, of course. The dragon had become almost a packaged deal with Starlight.

“Trixie was accepted to Princess Celestia’s School for Gifted Unicorns when she was a filly,” she explained, “Her mother dropped her off. I was so nervous, biting on my hoof like a fool!” the magician chuckled at the memory, but her mirth faded, “Mom always told me ‘Trixie, one day you will be great and powerful. You just need to believe in yourself.’ When I failed my entrance exam, I couldn’t bring myself to face her, and… Well, Trixie has not seen her since.”

“Trixie…” Starlight put a comforting hoof on her friend’s shoulder. Trixie looked into her face with a grateful smile, but it faded at the anger on Starlight’s face. “How could you leave you poor mother all worried like that?!”

“Trixie was just a filly!” the magician frowned, “She wasn’t thinking… Trixie was very selfish back then, and by the time she met you and became a better pony, well… She feels like her mother wouldn’t want to see her.”

“Surely a mother would want to see their missing child again, right?” Spike asked, half-talking to himself. Trixie felt shame flush her cheeks.

“Trixie is not even sure where to look…”

Starlight sighed and shook her head before smiling and wrapping the magician and the dragon into a group hug.

“As soon as we have a break in classes, I’ll help you look for her,” she promised.

“And don’t pretend you don’t want to,” Spike chuckled, “or that she doesn’t want to see you. We’re doing this, Trix. Even if it takes years!”

“Alright, alright!” Trixie snorted, but was blushing, “You’ve worn down the sad and sulking Trixie! Now, can we go? Trixie needs her beauty sleep.”

Starlight relinquished them and they retired to their rooms. Lying down to sleep, Starlight wondered if the republican city-states would really go through with their secession or not. She was still trying to wrap her mind around being under a dictator, but realistically, wasn’t that her whole life? Celestia and Luna weren’t bad rulers, so why should she feel bad? Still, the idea of living under an Empire made her feel sickened.

Maybe she’d feel better in the morning.
> 16
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


16


Luna ignored the roaring tempest of nightmares mounting, only wasting her time subduing the worst of them. Why were so many ponies in a panic? Ponies of every class, every caste, and every city-state were worried over the Empire and the divide it had created. Even the republican city-state members seemed fearful, much to Luna’s frustration. They should rejoice! Soon they would be liberated!

Dousing the worst of the fires, Luna managed to make the rendezvous at the appropriate time. She had linked the dreams of the representatives and their leaders. Slowly, through their close connections, various citizens bled into the dreams. The numbers grew with each passing night until it seemed the majority of every city-state interested in the Equestrian Republic was sharing the dream. Luna stood before them, resplendent in the aura of her magic. They listened to her encouragement every night, listened to her speeches, her promises of a better world. Every night in the wake of the birth of the Empire she encouraged them to stand strong, and every night their numbers grew. Talk in the waking world between citizens made their neighbors more receptive, drawing them in at night, until it seemed their numbers stretched on forever.

Luna felt her heart swell with pride as, night after night, the dreams began quieting. Ponies became encouraged, taking heart. Ponies went to sleep with words of love for democracy and the republic on their lips, and they flocked to her speeches. Friday was approaching, and this was the day the city-states had agreed to hold their vote.

Luna was confident of the results.


…



Tuesday the 24th of October


“I feel now is as good a time as any to teach the cruelest truth in friendship,” Celestia mused as she eyed her students. Apple Bloom felt a little sick as that gaze swept over her – through her, it felt like. Celestia had abandoned her armor, but the regal crown, cape, and jewelry still adorned her. For all that external splendor, something of her usual grace seemed lacking from eyes, as if her light was somehow menacing.

“I didn’t know there was any cruelty in friendship,” Sweetie Belle said, flinching a little as Celestia’s gaze fell upon her.

“Oh, but there is,” the Empress said, gently, “Sometimes… sometimes friendships cannot be saved.”

The fillies gasped and even the sulking twins’ eyes widened.

“That… doesn’t sound right,” Apple Bloom said.

“Maybe not,” Celestia murmured, “but it happens. Very rarely. Sometimes one will betray you too many times. Didn’t Discord do the same to Fluttershy? He betrayed her multiple times, did he not?”

“Well, yeah, but they’re still friends,” Scootaloo said.

“…Yes, they are. Aren’t they?” Celestia shook her head and laughed wildly for a second in embarrassment, “Ignore that lesson. It… it doesn’t make much sense in hindsight.”

The Crusaders eyed each other in concern. Celestia had been getting progressively darker in her friendship lessons, and this latest lesson attempt… No, surely the alicorn had been joking. There was something off in her eyes, though, and throughout the friendship lesson she seemed distracted. Suddenly, she ended the lesson for the day and dismissed the students. Confused, they began to depart.

“Flam, if you would stay here,” Celestia said. The twins hesitated but the Crusaders only looked over their shoulders as they left. “Just Flam, thank you.”

Flim opened his mouth, then clicked it shut and left. Flam felt almost naked without his brother by his side. The Empress of the Day had been acting strange, far stranger than usual, since her ascension to leader of a pony empire. Well, most of a pony empire. Many of the city-states on the Equestrian continent were in the process of voting on whether to join or not. The twin stood there for a moment, unable to look her in her challenging eyes until she lifted his face with her hoof.

“H-hello, Empress,” he chuckled, sheepishly.

“Do not fear me, Flam,” Celestia sighed, and for an instant his heart sank. She looked more tired than it was possible to be, as if she were forced to keep the sun in the sky by sheer force of will rather than simply raise and lower it. Perhaps that was her job, and doing it for more than a thousand years was certainly taxing… “Are we not still… friends?”

“Of course, Empress,” Flam smiled, struggling to look into her eyes. They hurt him, twisting into his heart like a knife.

“Why don’t you call me Tia?” Celestia gave a sad smile, “Luna was right – for once; I should have spent Sunday with you.”

She let go of his face and turned from him, preparing to stroll away. She stopped, cocking her head in feigned curiosity. In truth, she had wanted to ask this for some time, but it had never seemed appropriate.

“Will you go to the Republic, if it forms?” Celestia asked. She turned to face him again, “Will you leave me?”

“Never,” Flam said without hesitation, eyes not falling from her own. It was not a reaction she had dared hope for, considering his skittishness around her, but it made her heart swell. For the briefest of moments, she felt like swooning, but even as a Princess she’d never allow herself to appear weak to any pony.

“After you graduate,” Celestia said, deciding to change topics briefly, “I want you to work for the Imperial Friendly Finances Bureau. You’ll be more qualified than any other pony, save your brother, whom I suspect is not interested in staying.”

Flam avoided eye contact at the mention of his brother, but Celestia offered a disarming smile.

“Be at ease,” she laughed, lightly, “neither of us can be faulted for the decisions of our siblings.”

“Tia,” Flam said suddenly, once more startling the Empress. He hesitated, then steeled himself. “I know it isn’t really my place to ask – certainly, a former hustler like myself shouldn’t even be on such informal terms with the Empress of all of Equestria! – but, if I might be so bold, I was wondering if we could… hang out?”

“Hang out?” the Empress cocked an eyebrow and smirked at the lameness of his proposal, “I suppose since we’ve begun erecting a bureaucracy to take up some of my duties, I will have some free time for once… What exactly would we do, anyway?”

“Whatever you wanted, of course,” Flam smiled.

“So generous for one who, not but a few weeks ago, was swindling commoners and trying to earn the affections of a farmer,” Celestia chuckled and Flam felt his ears twitch at the slight hidden in her words. It almost seemed malicious, but Celestia had immediately bounced back to her usual good cheer. “It sounds delightful, Flam. My sister and I have hidden places in this castle where we can find privacy, even from each other. I shall show you one of my most treasured secrets.”

Flam felt his eyes drift downwards for a second, a blush creeping across his cheeks, before he corrected his mistake. Of course she hadn’t meant that! Now his mind raced in curiosity at where and how a room could be kept secret? It was a big castle, so it probably wasn’t hard, but where was such a room, and what might make it appealing to a Princess?

“I’m sure I will come to treasure it as much as I treasure your trust in me,” Flam smiled beneath his moustaches, “and almost as much as I treasure you.”

Celestia allowed herself a faint blush at the cheesy remark. For too long the immortal alicorns had sequestered themselves from the general population and romances, for any such relationship would be fleeting and only lead to heartache, but now… Now, didn’t they deserve something? Cadence had no problem with it, and had even gotten a child out of the bargain. Not for the first time Celestia wished there were some male alicorns to help make the eons less lonely. Briefly, her mind swirled with burning ambition, filling to the brim like the sun contained by a force fit to break loose. Perhaps she could find a way to make stallions into alicorns, or at the very least immortals. She shook her head; such magic was powerful and she shouldn’t trifle with it. No, no she should be careful.

Still, a voice at the back of her head told her the only limitations she faced were those she set herself…


…


Apple Bloom didn’t like the change in Celestia’ behavior. So befuddling was it that she didn’t notice Luna, too, was changing. Starlight was more receptive to it, and she found herself – along with Spike – less involved with the lessons.

Starlight grimaced. Lessons. They had devolved from exploration of complex socioeconomic and political topics to learning administrative duties and pragmatic political exercises. They were no longer exploring political theory and thinking for themselves, but falling into a routine of how to manage a democratic bureaucracy. The charm was quickly wearing off, but Starlight knew she’d lose face if she resigned from the class she had been so eager to attend. Perhaps Luna would return to their more adventurous subjects later? Maybe the Empress of the Night had simply felt she was pushing too much on them too early? Whatever the cause, she seemed distracted by something, as if the class was keeping her from what she’d rather be doing.

Spike, for his part, tuned out the entire course. Luna never talked to him, never asked for his input, and never mentioned non-ponies in her republican plans. Everything was exclusive to the ponies, to the subjects of the Equestrian Republic that didn’t even exist yet. He noticed that, despite Apple Bloom being the most eager student, Luna gave special attention to Starlight, posing most of the difficult problems to her to solve. It almost seemed like the alicorn expected the unicorn to actually lead their mythical nation. Spike smirked at the idea; President Starlight. An interesting notion.

The class rattled on and Spike found himself thinking more on martial arts forms, his daily practices with Scootaloo having drilled them into his subconscious. The pegasus filly had learned more restraint, and he had learned more aggression, but they would need years of training to match Night Bane. The drake wondered why the twins had been absent from the sparring session, though. Even Big Mac seemed a little apathetic towards the whole thing. Was it the politics? It seemed like the creation of the Empire was slowly sucking the fun out of everything. He heard Starlight call his name and snapped out of his thoughts.

“What?” he asked.

“I said class is over,” the unicorn repeated herself, looking concerned, “Are you alright? You’ve been really spacey lately.”

“I guess I just don’t see a point in doing anything since Luna hardly talks to me, anymore,” Spike confessed after he made sure the alicorn wasn’t in earshot, “I think I’ll drop the class.”

“Please don’t!” Starlight said, a little more desperate than she wished. Clearing her throat, she threw on a smile. “I, uh… I don’t want to be the only one taking the class.”

“You’ll have Apple Bloom,” Spike pointed out.

“I meant someone who doesn’t show me up all the time,” Starlight grumbled, “Apple Bloom is clearly Luna’s favorite.”

“I don’t know,” the drake scratched his chin, “It seemed like she was preparing you for something, to me. Maybe she wants to make you an emissary or something?”

“An emissary?” Starlight’s eyes widened, “I hope not. I’ll leave the diplomacy to you.”

“I’m told I have a skilled tongue,” Spike chuckled, prideful.

“By Scootaloo?” Starlight joked besides feeling a knife twist in her heart.

“What?” Spike blushed when he realized the question had been an off-color comment, “No! I swear, Starlight, we’re just friends.”

“So…” the unicorn felt her blush creeping, “if you’re not interested in her, then who are you interested in?”

“The usual,” Spike grumbled. Seeing that Starlight had overheard him and looked at him questioningly, he flinched. Oh well, might as well trudge on. “I have a bad habit of falling for older mares who are way out of my league.”

Starlight felt her heart soar at the possibility that mare was her. She had almost given up hope, but here was a fresh opportunity…

“Why are you always going after older mares anyway, Spike?” Apple Bloom’s voice broke in, startling the other two. She had an odd look, slightly accusatory, slightly hurt. Starlight immediately recognized the confrontational and somewhat possessive look in Apple Bloom’s eyes, seeing the situation for what it was; Spike was naturally oblivious.

“I… I don’t know,” the dragon shrugged, putting on an embarrassed smile, “The heart wants what the heart wants, I guess.”

Apple Bloom’s eyes drifted between the two of them before she grimaced and looked at the ground.

“You should tell her, Spike,” she said, quietly, “Trust me: nothing good comes from beating around the bush.”

“Apple Bloom-” Starlight started to say, but the sympathy in her tone sounded too much like pity and enraged the filly.

“Tell her now, Spike!” Apple Bloom stomped her hoof, “Or I will.”

“You know who I have a crush on?” the dragon blushed.

“Every pony in the castle knows by this point!” the filly rolled her eyes, “Just confess and live your happily-ever-after already!”

The trio stood in charged silence, eyes sliding between one another. Slowly Apple Bloom simmered down, becoming a sulking husk. She was always overlooked by colts, despite being the most outgoing of her friends. They all preferred the spunky Scootaloo or the beautiful Sweetie Belle. Why should Spike have been any different? Because neither of them had parents? Because he didn’t fit in? Because he helped his adoptive family with work? Starlight fit all those same descriptions, and she lived with him, to boot.

“Starlight,” Spike began, his blush spreading, “I… I was wondering if you wanted to hang out? As… as more than just friends, I mean. I know I’m a little young, but I just feel like we kinda click, you know?”

Starlight felt the breath leave her and her face heat up. It was happening. It was actually happening! She smiled, feeling a sense of happiness she hadn’t felt in some time, but it faded as she saw a distraught filly out of the corner of her eye. The image of youth filled her mind and she was reminded of the dragon’s nigh-immortality. She would wither away and die, but Spike would still be a child by the time she was an old hag. Apple Bloom stood a better chance, and Apple Bloom had always been a faithful friend to the dragon. The concept of worthlessness sprang into Starlight’s heart. She was worthless, wasn’t she? Guilt and shame obscured her judgement and what had been a happy moment was utterly ruined.

“No,” she said. Spike immediately looked hurt while Apple Bloom looked shocked, “I don’t feel that way about you. You’re a kid, Spike. You should… you should date someone your own age.”

“B-but I thought we had something going?” Spike stammered, the hurt in his eyes almost enough to shatter Starlight’s soul, “I thought we were… two of a kind?”

“You thought wrong,” Starlight managed through shaky breath, smirking, “I… I guess I’m a little too mature for you.”

Before Spike could recover from that hammer blow – or see the tears falling from the unicorn’s eyes – Starlight turned away and trotted past Apple Bloom towards the exit, stopping long enough to pass some quiet advice on to the shocked filly.

“Take your own advice, Apple Bloom,” she managed to croak out, “Comfort him; love him. Be the filly-friend I didn’t deserve to be.”

“Starlight, wait…” the filly managed to say as the unicorn practically galloped out of the room.

The filly felt horrible, knowing this had largely been her fault. In her bitterness, she had just sabotaged a genuine romance. Yet… wasn’t this what she wanted? Wasn’t this the way to win over her crush? It wasn’t right, but neither was denying the chance presented to her by Starlight’s sacrifice. There was no point in all three of them being miserable. Apple Bloom approached the dragon and brought him into an embrace that he tried and failed to struggle against in anger, but ultimately surrendered to in tears.

“Why did you make me ask her?” he seethed.

“Because you loved her and needed to say it,” the filly murmured, not letting him go.

“But why?” Spike choked back a sob, “Why not just let me go on dreaming?”

Apple Bloom thought about that. She knew the truth, even if Spike didn’t. She had to come up with something believable, something that would cover Starlight’s sacrifice. Feeling wretched enough, and unable to lie well, Apple Bloom decided to do as Starlight had recommended.

“Because I love you,” she whispered. The dragon tensed in her grip.

“You… you love me?” he asked. He’d never heard anyone say those words in that way. Twilight and her family would say they loved him, but it had clearly been a familial love. No one had ever expressed a romantic love for him. “Why?”

“Why do you keep asking why?” the filly retorted, pulling away to look at Spike’s tear-stained face, “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a colt-friend, to be honest.”

“I’m not a colt,” Spike managed to snort and smile, though it was brief. Apple bloom dried his eyes.

“That never mattered to me,” she pointed out, smiling. Her heart felt wretched. Was her love true, or just a passing infatuation? If things fell through, would Spike recover? Would he find another? She couldn’t let any of that doubt gnaw away at her. “This probably isn’t the best time, but… would you be interested in hanging in out, sometime?”

“I…” Spike sighed. After growing out of his crush on Rarity, he had learned to just roll with the hand dealt to him. Perhaps things would work out with Apple Bloom. He hadn’t noticed her before, and for that he felt awful. He understood the pain of unrequited love. Looking at her now, he could see the potential for romance. Didn’t she deserve a chance; a chance he had always been denied? “That sounds nice, actually.”

Apple Bloom beamed at him and helped him to his feet. With fragile smiles they departed the classroom, taking comfort in each other’s presence despite the worming emotions eating at their hearts like overripe maggots. Apple Bloom felt foolish guilt; Spike resignation. Yet they smiled at each other, tried to look forward to their futures.

Was that a good enough foundation for a relationship?


…



Wednesday the 25th of October


“What the heck do you mean you’re not going to join the Orduud?!” Ember demanded.

The draconequues had teleported himself into the middle of their latest meeting, which was just perfect. Ember was having enough problems trying to keep the various races from breaking their young alliance or trying to usurp her. All of the races involved in the Orduud had strong warrior traditions and respected strength. The donkeys, camels, and zebras were all overridden by the bombastic outbursts of yaks, griffons, and dragons, all of which demanded louder denouncing of the ponies. The buffaloes were on the fence, enjoying their relationship with Appleloosa but fearful of their ever-shrinking lands. All told, the Orduud was becoming a hot mess with only Ember, Pharynx, and Prince Rutherford were the only ones attempting to hold the assembly together.

And now the God of Chaos was rejecting their invitation to join them, too.

“What do you mean ‘what do you mean’?” Discord scowled, “I thought I was pretty clear about it!”

“You were, but…” Ember massaged her eyelids. Fatigue was taking its toll on her and the other assembled leaders could sense her weakness. It was hard enough ruling over the dragons and trying to balance their revived militancy along with the never-quite-accepted friendship lessons she was trying to hold onto. “Why?”

“I had to swear neutrality in order to protect a friend,” Discord explained in a huff before crossing his arms, “It’s as simple as that.”

“This will look bad…” Ember muttered, just loud enough for Discord, Pharynx, and Prince Rutherford to hear.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” the God of Chaos chuckled, “You are a union of dragons, yaks and griffons! None of you have control of the heavens, true, but you can all defend yourselves well enough.”

“Whatever,” Ember snapped, “We kindly accept your rejection. You can leave now.”

“Why is everyone in such a bad mood these days?” Discord scowled, “It’s a really bad sign when I’m the only being in the world that still has manners. Very well, then. If there was nothing else, I’ll be off.”

“Wait,” Prince Rutherford spoke up, stopping the draconequues from snapping his fingers, “I have request. Let Honorary Yak Pinkie Pie know she have place in Orduud. Let her know she always welcome.”

“How touching,” Discord smirked, “Anyone else?”

“Yeah, extend that invitation to Spike, too,” Ember added, quickly, “He might not take us up on it, but hey, that’s his loss.”

“And you Pharynx?” Discord cocked an eyebrow, “Have anyone in mind?”

“Nope,” the changeling shook his head, “I mean, I guess I should pass on that Spike is always welcome with the changelings, too. I know my brother would just love for him to come visit sometime.”

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you,” Discord chuckled before raising his voice, “Since I am apparently a messenger, anyone else have something to pass onto the ponies? Let’s keep it civil, folks; this is a family show.”

“Actually,” a griffon spoke up, causing all heads to turn in her direction, “I want to go with you.”

“Traitor!” another griffon shouted.

“Shut up!” Gilda snapped back and the other griffon clicked his beak shut, “Seriously, the tension in Griffonstone lately has just been too much! Everyone is throwing the friendship lessons right out the window despite all the good they’ve done because ‘a pony introduced them’! I need to get away for a little bit. That’s cool, right?”

Ember nodded, though grimaced at the glares from the griffons. Gilda didn’t hold much sway with her kin, but she was a prominent griffon who supported their little triumvirate. With her gone, the peace was that much harder to keep, but keeping her cooped up with them would only inflame the situation.

“Alright, then,” Discord sighed, “Apparently I’m also a taxi. Next stop: Equestria!”

Gilda rolled her eyes moments before the draconequues snapped his fingers and teleported them out of the area. Ember watched the groupings of other representatives whispering to one another, plotting. They were a loose coalition that was made up predominantly of reluctant converts to Celestia’s philosophy and hated ponies. There was talk amongst them to oust the triumvirate of Ember, Pharynx (whose race wasn’t even in the Orduud) and Prince Rutherford and to appoint a strong, aggressive leader. Ember knew what they wanted, and she had to prevent them from achieving it.

She would not let the Orduud go to war.


…


Twilight felt much lighter when the mail was delivered. The letters from Spike, Trixie, and Starlight had finally arrived! She was confident her friends would be similarly pleased by the letters they had received. It was hard to believe only a week had passed; everything had been happening so rapidly it felt as if several months had gone by at least. She reclined in her throne at the Map, taking her time to read the rather lengthy letters.

She decided to read Trixie’s letter first, since it was the shortest. Unsurprisingly, it was filled with boasting and self-confidence. Twilight smirked at it until she read “When Trixie returns, she’ll show you a few tricks.” The Princess puckered her lips at that. Had that been another slip-of-the-tongue? Those seemed to be happening frequently between her and the magician. She decided to move onto the next letter.

Starlight’s was warm and friendly, which pleased Twilight to no end considering things had been rough between them leading up to her departure. It was filled with gratefulness for all the friendship lessons Twilight had taught her, which she claimed helped her with her current lessons. There was some mention of working together on a constitutional draft and some shocked outrage at the short deadline Celestia had given Luna. Twilight frowned at the doubts in Celestia’s sincerity and keeping faith in her deal with Luna. Considering the apparent divide between the sisters, Twilight began to wonder if Celestia had ever intended to keep her word, either…

Shaking the doubts away, Twilight read Spike’s letter. It was even less formal than Starlight’s and filled with an almost childlike excitement at all of the amazing things he was doing. Twilight winced at the idea of her little drake engaged in martial combat, but paradoxically felt a swelling pride at his skill. Only Scootaloo seemed better by his letter, and Twilight rolled her eyes wondering how proud Rainbow Dash probably was reading her letter. Spike’s letter also expressed doubts about Celestia’s decisions, his perception of no laws protecting non-ponies concerning him even while he was a student under them! Twilight frowned; surely the fact he was an invited student of royalty would be enough to convince him non-ponies had protected status, right? Apparently not.

Twilight felt her eyes water at the postscript Spike had added, questioning if she thought of him as a son and if he had offended her by calling her mom.She immediately got her quill and inkwell, as well as some fresh paper. She needed to compose a response immediately and let her young drake know that there was no offense and that, while she would likely keep calling him Spike, he was every bit her son. She felt her happiness grow at fond memories between them, and the idea of her being a mother instead of just a guardian. Oh, her own parents would be so happy! Sure, it wasn’t a grand-foal, but it was still a grandson. Twilight scratched the quill nib against her cheek in thought, getting ink on her face. Did her parents already view Spike as a grandson? That was definitely a question worth asking the next time she saw them.

After several attempts to write the letter, Twilight found herself perplexed on what exactly to say. Everything seemed either too desperate or too cold. She grimaced; she had this exact same problem with stallions! Sometimes being an analytical genius was too much, her ability to think becoming an ability to overthink. Sighing in resignation after a few hours had passed, Twilight decided to try and meet up with her friends and see how they liked their letters. Things were tense because of the Empire and rumors about a split, but her friends had avoided politics altogether.

Deciding she rarely visited Rainbow Dash, that was the first of her friends she went to see. Almost reaching the cloudy abode, the Princess stopped when she recognized Fluttershy leaving in a hurry. Tilting her trajectory, the alicorn intercepted the pegasus and flew alongside her, pleased to see her for the first time since her secession. Pleased, that was, until she saw the tears in her eyes.

“Oh,” Fluttershy sniffled, making a poor effort at drying her tears, “Hello, Twilight. I’m sorry I didn’t see you.”

“It’s alright,” Twilight offered a concerned smile, “Are you alright? I saw you were at Rainbow Dash’s place. She’s not sick or anything, is she?”

“No, she’s just peachy!” the pegasus huffed out with enough vehemence to give Twilight pause, “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be short with you; I just wanted to invite Rainbow Dash to the Secession Party Pinkie Pie is throwing for me this weekend. Since she’s my oldest friend and always telling me to stand up for myself, I thought I’d ask her first. After all, she should be proud that I stood my ground against a…”

Fluttershy trailed off, flustered once she realized who she was talking to.

“But instead,” she started up again, her voice filling with heat, “all I got was a lecture about being a traitor! It’s not like I’m going to fight the Empire, or anything… I just wanted to protect my – and the animals’ – rights. Is that so wrong?”

“No…” Twilight dragged out, “but… maybe you could have done that in the Empire?”

“How?” Fluttershy deadpanned, before sighing, “I take it you don’t want to come to the party either?”

“I want to support you, but something called a ‘Secession Party’ makes me feel… uncomfortable,” the Princess of Friendship grimaced.

“I told Pinkie it wasn’t a good name, but Freedom Party made it seem like none of you were free, and I didn’t want to be insulting,” Fluttershy explained. After a pause, she smiled. “Oh, what if we call it a Sovereignty Party?”

“I… suppose that would make me less uncomfortable,” Twilight admitted. It was an accurate title, but didn’t imply that the others were trapped in any way. “I’ll be there, and I’ll do my best to convince Rainbow Dash to join me.”

“Really?” Fluttershy immediately brightened at the prospect, “It would be wonderful to have all my friends there.”

“I’ll even Pinkie Promise,” Twilight assured her, “Cross my heart and hope to fly, stick a cupcake in my eye-OW!”

The Princess rubbed her eye while Fluttershy giggled. How in Equestria did she keep messing up on that simple maneuver? Either way, it was good to see Fluttershy in higher spirits. She had nothing better to do that weekend, anyway. Things were pretty slow in Ponyville despite new orders coming in on how to restructure the government. Frankly, the changes made Twilight cringe; they were so cumbersome and a little inefficient. She’d have to review them and recommend improvements to Celestia later.

“What were you going to see Rainbow Dash about?” Fluttershy asked, arresting her progress once she realized they were flying away from Twilight’s destination, “At least, I assume that’s where you were heading; there’s not much else out here.”

“I got my letters from Spike and Starlight, and I wanted to see how the others were feeling about their letters,” Twilight explained.

“That’s lovely!” Fluttershy smiled, “Well, I won’t keep you. Hopefully talking about Scootaloo will cheer her up.”

They parted ways and Twilight knocked on Rainbow Dash’s door.

“Go away, Fluttershy!” Rainbow snapped from the other side, “I told you, I don’t want to see you right now!”

“Rainbow Dash, it’s me!” Twilight shouted back. There was a long pause and Twilight wondered if the pegasus was trying to pretend she wasn’t home. “You know I can just walk through this stuff, right?”

Rainbow opened the door slowly, peering out through the crack to make sure Fluttershy wasn’t with her before opening it further. The pegasus looked disgruntled, but more resigned than angry.

“Hey Twilight,” she greeted lamely, “You’re probably wondering what that was all about, huh?”

“Fluttershy already told me,” Twilight frowned, “but that’s not why I’m here. Did you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe later,” Rainbow grumbled, “What did you want to talk about?”

“Did you get your letter from Scootaloo?”

“Huh?” Rainbow looked surprised, then grimaced, “Yeah, I got it.”

“You don’t seem happy about it,” the Princess looked worried, “Is she alright? Spike didn’t mention anything bad happening to her.”

“She’s fine,” Rainbow sighed, “In fact, she’s doing great. Did you know she’s training as a knight with Spike?” Twilight nodded, “Oh, good; I thought Spike might try and hide it from you, what with how overprotective you can be. Anyway, what’s bugging me is I can’t figure out where she stands on this whole Empire thing. Is she loyal, do you think?”

“I think she doesn’t care,” Twilight giggled, “She is a foal, after all. Actually, why do you care so much? I didn’t think you were into politics.”

“I’m not,” Rainbow Dash growled out, “but the idea that ponies would want to… to break away from the Princesses. It’s frustrating! I just don’t understand it!”

“Some pony’s feel like their needs are being ignored,” Twilight said, “To be honest, I don’t see it. No pony is coming to me with their problems, so I’m not actively ignoring them…”

“Exactly! I haven’t heard any complaints,” Rainbow Dash shook her head, “You’re not really seceding, are you?”

“I’m not seceding,” Twilight chuckled, “Mayor Mare is worried if I don’t stay neutral, the democrat towns-ponies will leave – or worse – but I’m not about to disobey the Empresses. We’ve already begun restructuring Ponyville’s law code and legal procedures, and I’ve appointed Mayor Mare as our representative in the Imperial Senate.”

“What the hay is a Senate?” the pegasus’ face scrunched up at the unfamiliar word.

“Oh, some political institution to balance out the Empresses,” Twilight waved a dismissive hoof, “Like they need balancing.”

“Won’t the towns-ponies get upset about that?” Rainbow Dash asked.

“Well, Mayor Mare was worried they might,” the Princess sighed, “but they elected her to be their leader, so I assumed they’d like her to be our representative in the Senate. I’ll stay the nominal leader here and have them elect bureaucrats to pick up Mayor Mare’s duties. I figure this is a good compromise; the towns-ponies get more say in government, but we adopt Celestia’s new standards and stay part of the Empire.”

It also helped that this was the system Celestia had designed the Empire around and that, in performing the compromise, Twilight was obeying her Empress completely.

“Sounds good to me,” Rainbow agreed, “They’d have to be idiots not to take you up on your offer.”

“Let’s meet up with the others and see how they felt about their letters!” Twilight suggested and Rainbow smiled at the thought. They departed her cloud abode, eager to hear from the others.


…


“Old Ponish is trickier than I thought it would be…” Apple Bloom muttered as she scribbled some more notes in her notebook. The runes were still confusing, but not as confusing as the guttural dialogue of their ancestors.

Flim had picked up the language better, but Apple Bloom had learned he and his twin brother were natural polyglots, as quick speech had saved their hides in countless business ventures gone awry. Now the clean-shaven twin was unnervingly quiet, his brother missing from the class. Luna, as ever, seemed too distracted to notice, her eyes on the clock as if waiting for it to be over. Starlight and Spike had mentioned her lack of interest earlier, just after their political class, but now it was becoming so obvious even the filly noticed.

“It’s not too difficult once you get a grasp on the sentence structure and the grammar,” Flim said, almost bored, still sulking, “Actually, it sort of reminds me of our language, or maybe Germane’s dialect. The hardest part are the runes replacing letters, and the new vocabulary. Even then, if you look closely you can see similarities.”

Apple Bloom moved over to Flim’s side, the motion finally catching Luna’s attention. She watched, at first out of the corner of her eye, and then with her full attention. Flim demonstrated several sentences in their modern tongue, the Germane dialect, and Old Ponish. Apple Bloom furrowed her brow as she sounded the words out, eyes searching the script for some clue. Luna watched in interest as Flim explained a little further and the filly’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. She realized the roots Germane and her own dialect had in Old Ponish, the similarities in the runes with the modern alphabet. Were all languages related like this? She felt her chest swell with pride at the prospect that the ponies were so… similar. Why had they ever separated in the first place? Her young, curious mind was beginning to drift and she reigned it back in.

Luna stood over them, watching their progress and lost in her own thoughts. She was supposed to be their instructor, yet in less than two weeks, she had lost students in most of her classes and was now so distracted with her political machinations that she was overlooking her responsibilities. For an instant, she felt the mare she had been just a few weeks ago cry out to her to focus, to focus on some issue she was neglecting. Then it was gone in an instant. Whatever the problem was, it had changed. Equestria needed to be a Republic.

She turned from her distracted students and looked back at the clock – back to more pressing matters.


…



Thursday the 26th, of October


“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever thrown a party at your house before,” Pinkie noted as she took measurements of the dimensions of Fluttershy’s interior. Maud was with her holding a tube filled with floorplans, both sisters wearing hard hats. “It was actually difficult to find the floorplans for your cabin; thank goodness Mayor Mare hadn’t left for Canterlot yet!”

“She’s leaving?” Fluttershy asked, “Why?”

“Twilight appointed her Ponyville’s senator,” Pinkie Pie said, tapping her shin, “Senator Mare… doesn’t quite have the same ring to it.”

“So Twilight isn’t staying neutral,” Fluttershy muttered, “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“I’m not,” Maud deadpanned.

“Wait, something’s different about you…” the pegasus squinted her eyes, then gasped, “Where’s Boulder?”

“We’re taking a break,” Maud explained, “We were talking about politics and things got pretty heated. Boulder is pretty stuck in his ways, and arguing with him is like arguing with a brick wall.”

Fluttershy furrowed her brow, sparing a look at Pinkie Pie, but both siblings were deadly serious on the matter. Then again, who was she to talk? She seemed to be the only pony who could communicate with animals; perhaps Maud could communicate with rocks?

“Will you both be at the party, then?” the pegasus decided to ask instead.

“Of course!” Pinkie snorted, “I am the organizer, after all. And the caterer. And Maud wouldn’t miss it, either! She was super-active in student protests and activism in college!”

“Down with the establishment,” Maud deadpanned.

“Listen to that raw passion!” Pinkie squealed, “It gives me chills!”

“Will any pony else be able to make it?” Fluttershy asked, afraid to hear the answer.

“Rarity said something about needing to finish dresses for an order,” Pinkie mumbled, her tone suggesting she hadn’t believed a word of it, “but Applejack will definitely be there! I even booked Vinyl Scratch at a discount; she was super-excited. She says you’re a true rebel, being the first to secede and everything.”

“Oh, I don’t think of myself as a rebel,” Fluttershy giggled, “besides, I could never have accomplished this without Discord, the sweetheart.”

“So…” Pinkie smirked, “should I start planning a wedding reception?”

“I-What?!” Fluttershy blushed, “I think you should just focus on this party for now, Pinkamena Diane Pie!”

“I think you struck a nerve,” Maud said, allowing herself a small smile as Pinkie giggled.

“Okay, okay,” the pink mare wiped a tear from her eye, “I’ll focus on this party, then.”

After an hour or so, Fluttershy reviewed the plans and helped make appropriate changes to them to ensure the animals would be upset as little as possible from the party. Pinkie agreed she would help with the clean-up, and Maud agreed to help too, despite the other mares insisting she didn’t need to. Of course, arguing with Maud proved as futile as arguing with… well, a rock.

Fluttershy smiled in spite of the problems with her friends from earlier. If Twilight could convince Rainbow Dash to attend, then everything would be perfect! After all, if one of Pinkie Pie’s parties couldn’t mend a friendship…

…then nothing could.


…


Mayor Mare-

No, she reminded herself, I am Senator Mare, now.

Senator Mare finished packing her belongings with a resigned scowl. She looked around her empty office and felt her heart break at the sight. How many years had she spent as the leader of Ponyville, scarcely faltering in her duties? How many weddings had she officiated? How many birth certificates had she happily confirmed? How many families had she comforted in loss? It all felt so… empty, now.

Just like her office.

She briefly contemplated her terms in office. Ponyville had been democratic, after a fashion. Like most of the democratic city-states within Equestria, however, the populations were small and so the pool of candidates virtually non-existent. On the one hand, Ponyville could elect another mayor; on the other, they never felt the need to, and no pony ever stepped up as a candidate. She had always been so flattered that no pony opposed her, taking it to mean that she was beloved and irreplaceable. Now she began to wonder if perhaps it was simply because no pony valued democratic institutions, that they were fine with a single, lifelong ruler as long as they didn’t rock the boat too much.

It saddened her.

Still, nothing for it. She threw on her saddlebags and prepared to leave for her new post in Canterlot. It was an honor, in truth, and it was the will of the Empresses – or, if her dreams were anything to go by, the Empress – and Princess Twilight. Her tenure as mayor might have given her a misrepresentation about government in Equestria, but not enough that she had forgotten the royalty ran the ponies. The more she thought on it, the more she warmed up to the idea. First the longest-running Mayor of Ponyville, and now the first Senator of Ponyville. She was more than a record-holder for her city-state; she was the bridging between eras.

It didn’t help the disquiet in her heart, though. She arrived at the train station and was surprised to see Twilight Sparkle and a dozen of Ponyville’s citizens waiting for her, a “Farewell!” banner on display. Senator Mare suppressed a brief irritation. How dare the Princess who evicted her turn it into a celebration? No, no, it was fine. It was more than fine; it was a symbol of respect, and to see so many of her former citizens there to say farewell was heartwarming.

She smiled her easy smile and passed words with her constituents, holding her poise through Twilight’s sugary-complimentary speech. Senator Mare wasn’t sure which was worse: the prospect Twilight honestly believed she thought she was doing a service for their divided community by sending her away; or the idea that her platitudes were hollow lies.

Only after Ponyville was beyond sight, far behind her train, did she allow herself to cry.


…



Friday the 27th, of October


Spike felt himself panicking over the days since Apple Bloom had confessed his love for him. His stomach felt sick with anxiety; he’d never felt that way about her before, never even thought about the prospect, and now he was going on a date with her tomorrow.

Oh yeah, then there was the date – a ritual he had never really performed and which caused a completely different form of anxiety. Despite the confused emotions regarding his feelings for the filly, the drake was also concerned about how to properly go about the date. Whether or not he truly loved Apple Bloom, he owed it to her to give it his all, didn’t he?

He had already finished getting himself a new suit, courtesy of the Canterlot Boutique, and written a beautifully-worded thank you letter for Rarity to send out with his letters. The dragon frowned at the letters. Surely Twilight’s response would have reached him by now? Applejack’s letter to Apple Bloom had arrived only yesterday, but him, Starlight, and Trixie had received nothing yet. Oddly enough, Trixie seemed the most upset by this, likely worried that Twilight was still angry about the magic trick.

Spike shook his head; he had training to attend.

Scootaloo had been waiting for him and she walked in silence alongside him as they went to Night Bane’s sparring session.

“You’re pretty quiet,” the dragon noted.

“I’m just surprised,” Scootaloo admitted with a smirk, “I can’t believe Apple Bloom confessed her love to you.”

“Ah,” Spike blushed, “So she told you about our date tomorrow, then?”

“Duh,” the pegasus snorted, “I am one of her best friends.”

Spike stayed silent, eyes locked ahead.

“Wow, you seem pretty nervous,” Scootaloo grinned, “It’s just a date, dude. She’s just as freaked out.”

“Does she really love me?” the dragon mumbled.

“Oh, she’s head-over-hooves for you,” the pegasus giggled before grimacing, “Seriously, she won’t shut up about this date. It’s… kinda annoying, actually.”

“Scootaloo, can I confess something to you?” Spike stopped and the pegasus turned back to look at him. She was about to make a joke at his wording but saw the deadly seriousness in his face.

“Sure,” she nodded.

“You won’t tell Apple Bloom?”

“…Sure.”

“Scootaloo…”

“Okay, I promise,” the pegasus huffed.

“Alright,” Spike double-checked to make sure there were no witnesses before leaning in, “I don’t love Apple Bloom. I-I accepted her love because I thought I could learn to love her, but now I’m not sure that’s the right way, either.”

Scootaloo blinked, furrowing her brow.

“Wait… what?” she chewed on her lip, “I thought you’d… Oh, this isn’t good.”

“I wouldn’t lead her on, if I were you,” a third, stallion’s voice said, startling the two youths.

“Sir Night Bane!” they both bowed in unison.

“Rise,” the Night Guard grimaced, “We’re you coming to train?”

“Yes Sir,” the youths nodded in unison.

“Well, that’s too bad,” Night Bane sighed, “Princ- I mean… Luna…” it was clear referring to his liege so informally troubled him, “has terminated the chivalry courses.”

“What?!” both youths shrieked. Night Bane found himself growing tired of their in tandem speech.

“Why?” Spike asked as Scootaloo tried to recover from the shock.

“She said something about a new age dawning, where knights were no longer needed,” the Royal Guard explained, wearily, “Knights, nobility, chivalry… she said these were relics of a bygone era, symbols of the old ways. Oh, and she didn’t want to risk your health on dangerous expeditions.”

“But…” Scootaloo frowned, “I wanted the danger!”

“She thought you might,” Night Bane snorted, “You could always join the Night Guard when you’re older; we’re not as stuffy as the Day Guard, and we go on night raids often. It’s not quite the same as knighthood, but it’s the closest you’ll get.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Spike shook his head, “It was one of her largest classes, and she said knights had a place in her vision of a republic!”

“She claims she was mistaken,” Night Bane gave a rough grin, remembering he had argued the same thing.

“How can you just lie down and surrender?!” Scootaloo demanded, startling Spike and even surprising the knight a little, “Don’t you care about your knighthood?”

“I do, but a knight must obey the will of his or her lord or lady,” Night Bane explained, evenly, “I thought we went over that in class enough times.”

“Er… right,” Scootaloo’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“As for you, Spike,” Night Bane turned his attention to the dragon, “you’re just nervous. You should try doing something to get your mind off of the date… Didn’t Luna give you a book?”

“I don’t know if I can focus on it, but…” Spike nodded slowly, “yeah, I think that’s a good idea, actually. I’ll go try that. Unless you wanted to hang out?”

“Actually, now that I have the free time, I think I’ll study,” Scootaloo sighed, “I didn’t do too hot on Empress Celestia’s last test…”

“Oh, well… alright, then,” Spike scratched his cheek at the idea she would prefer to study. It wasn’t completely out of place, but it also wasn’t something he’d expect her to turn hanging out with friends for. Perhaps she really just wanted some alone time to process the end of her road to knighthood? Frankly, he could use some alone time to decompress, too.

The two friends departed, leaving their former master to his own duties. Spike entered his room and closed the door, resting his back against it and sliding down its length before running his hands through the spines on his head. What was he doing there, anymore? He was ignored in the political science course, and now the chivalry course was cancelled. It had only been about two weeks, so it might not be too late to sign up for another class, but considering the Empresses’ slipping attention to them, he felt that might be a waste of his time and effort.

Seeing no point in putting it off anymore, Spike went to where he had placed the ancient tome, cracking it open. He grimaced. Starlight – the mere memory of her hurting him – had overstated his talent at Old Ponish. He was skilled enough, but some of the more technical terms still eluded him. Reading the tome would be slow and burdensome, but at least he had the foresight to check out an Old Ponish-to-Modern Ponish dictionary from the library. Sighing, he began his own studies, slow and tedious as they were.


…


Luna stood before thousands of ponies in the realm of dreams. Nearly the entire population of every democratic city-state within and without of Equestria’s borders, and hundreds from the imperial city-states, all stood before her, eager to listen to her speeches, eager to drink in her promises for freedom and progress. This was the final night before the dawn of a new age. Saturday would see these faithful followers of democratic theory vote for their futures, and she knew in her heart that they’d follow her.

They all nominated their candidate for the presidency, as well as appointed their representatives to Congress, the body politic that would represent the ponies. The Republic had taken on a name, though Luna disapproved of it. The ponies had linked her to their progress, to their nation, and their nightly meetings had left the image of the moon forever in their association with their ideals. They did not refer to their republic as the Equestrian Republic as Luna had intended.

They called it the Lunar Republic.

It smacked of self-aggrandizement to Luna. How could she prove to her sister that it was the ponies who wanted democracy when they went and named a whole nation after her? It looked hypocritical, but Luna had to accept their majority vote for it with a shake of her head. At least they weren’t worshipping her as a goddess. At least, not too obviously.

Yes, everything looked bright and ready for the former Princess of the Night’s vision of a free and prosperous future. She allowed herself a smirk of confidence as the ponies cheered her on.

By the time she woke from her true sleep the following evening, she would be waking into the beginning of revolution.
> 17
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


17



Saturday the 28th, October


Luna exited the realm of dreams with a smirk. When she woke from her own sleep, the world would be forever changed. Celestia would see just how many ponies disapproved of her imperialist vision, and then she’d ultimately shed her ambitions and embrace democracy! At least, that is what she hoped. There was no need for needless suffering.

Luna felt a familiar presence reaching into her mind and spun around, searching the shadows cast by dawn’s light in panic. Sweat ran down her face. For a moment, she had sensed something all too familiar, something that had haunted her dreams, her mind, and her very soul for centuries. Searching with all her power, she could not find the entity. It had always been lurking, hiding, lying in wait; a constant threat that could ensnare any unsuspecting pony and kept at bay only by great effort on Luna’s part.

With a shudder the alicorn realized how lax she had grown in her duties regarding defense. Most of the monsters of the realm had been vanquished, but this enemy was eternal – forever part of her, yet capable of infecting others. Her vigilance had faltered, and ponies could suffer as a result. Luna slowly felt her confidence return as she realized the Nightmare had passed, returned to whatever hole it slithered out of.

She chuckled to herself, though it was taut with anxiety.

Today would be a day of victory; not a day to jump at shadows.


…


Celestia crumpled the letter Gutsy Gust had been elected to deliver her. She spared a withering glare at the stallion as if it were his fault, and even his usual stoicism eroded beneath it. Sighing, she vented her exasperation at the political climate. So what if the city-states were going to vote to secede or not? It was their right, wasn’t it?

Where does it say that, though?

The thought had come unbidden to her mind. Government in the realms of ponies had forever been a tricky business, always vague and unsure. There was no universal law code – though Celestia had begun working on one more than once – and there was no overarching constitution until she and Luna had made one. Or rather, two. There was no guarantee of rights, only the unquestioned reign of the godlike alicorn princesses. Princesses who earned their titles, despite the misconception many had they were born into it.

Celestia furrowed her brow at Flurry Heart, that adorable oddity.

Don’t get distracted, her mind whispered, your nation is crumbling from dissidents.

Celestia snorted at the word. Dissidents? She had let ponies move about and settle their own lands in the past, hadn’t she? Was that dissidence?

Of course not, her thoughts assured her, that was with your sanction.

That was true enough. Perhaps… perhaps she should make some sort of final announcement before they voted, to help them see the light. Despite their fears of nationalizing, even the democratic upstarts viewed her with great respect and reverence. They trusted her; one thousand years of peace and security would do that, after all.

Celestia might have lacked Luna’s dream magic and the capacity to enter into the hidden world of dreams, but she was one of the most powerful sorceresses in the entire world, and had more than a millennium of studying powerful spells behind her. A little brain-wracking, and she found a spell that would get her point across. For the rest of the day she’d be drained, but that was alright. Her nobles had been all too eager to pick up much of her royal duties so she could have more time to herself, and as long as they abided by the laws she placed before them, she was happy to let them do so.

But that wasn’t quite right, was it? She was all for a hooves-off method of governing, but she still had responsibilities…

Your subjects can go a few days without you looking over their shoulder.

Celestia chuckled at her thoughts; of course they could go a little bit without her. She should trust her subjects. They weren’t foals, after all.

Gathering what she needed through her guards, Celestia prepared, perhaps, the most powerful spell she had cast in nearly an age. Harnessing her magic, she set the runes and chanted the incantation, her eyes glowing white with divine energies. With the final syllable uttered, she projected her image from the sun’s light, so her visage filled the sky wherever the sun shown. True, a good portion of pony city-states were still in darkness, but those regions were predominantly imperial anyway, and so they weren’t at risk of secession.

Thousands of ponies gasped in awe at the celestial image looking down upon them with motherly affection and grace, almost painful to look upon and yet too warm and inviting to ignore. Thousands bowed, even those who swore they had no masters. Most were moved to tears by the sight, unable to contain their emotion. Prisoners crowded to their barred windows, desperate to see their goddess whom they believed had forsaken them. Every laborer paused to watch in awe, and no overseer or boss could bring themselves to scold them, equally unable to ignore their ruler.

“Ponies of Equestria and beyond,” Celestia’s voice was carried along the wind, as if it too were a part of nature, “many of you are about to participate in an election that will shape the future of our lands and our race. Many of you will be heading to your ballot boxes on this day to decide whether or not ponykind will be united or fractured, driven by fears that the reign of the nobility and the Princesses is no longer enough.

“Before you vote, I must ask each of you to consider a few things. Do you really conceive that I might be some hidden tyrant? In over a thousand years of rule, have I done anything to make you – my subjects, my people – question me? Have I not ruled sincerely and with great care for your wellbeing? If I have failed in some way, please let me know. I do not wish to see our lands divided any more than any of you; it breaks my heart to see my subjects so displeased with my efforts, so disheartened by my rule.

“I beseech each of you to consider the impact your secession will have on our kind, how it will divide us in the face of a growing threat. I beg you to recall the period before the Princesses, before ponykind was united, when the windigos spread their icy bitterness over the world – a time when disharmony nearly killed the world. Keep these things in mind as you head to the ballots today.”

Celestia’s image faded out, leaving ponies staring at the clear autumn skies with confused expressions. Their inner turmoil reigned, their confidence in their unspent votes suddenly diminished. When had Celestia failed them as a leader? Democracy was untried on a national level, and the alicorn who endorsed it was notorious for her great betrayal and millennium-long banishment. Could such things be discounted? Was secession the right path? These newfound doubts came to mind mere hours before the time to vote arrived.

Back in Canterlot, Celestia reclined in a bed, recovering from the energy expended on her spell. She smiled to herself; if that speech failed to bring more back to her fold, then nothing would. It was short and to the point, rather how she enjoyed making her speeches. There was no need for grandiose gestures or theatrics; her mere presence was often enough to evoke awe in her subjects.

“I am… rather stunning, aren’t I?” she murmured to herself, drowsy from her drained energy.

Yes, her thoughts purred as she slipped into a nap, you are.


…


“Wow, you’re that far already?” Apple Bloom’s drawl snapped Spike out of his reading.

Jumping slightly and spinning on his seat in the cafeteria, he blushed at the filly in front of him, more at her closeness than anything else. His heart twisted in confusion over what exactly he was supposed to be feeling, and he felt even worse as he wondered where Starlight had been hiding. He shouldered those thoughts aside; he was dating Apple Bloom. Sort of.

“It’s a pretty interesting read, though I haven’t it made it much further than Cinder Crisp’s introductory notes,” Spike explained.

“Cinder Crisp?” Apple Bloom prompted.

“The stallion who wrote this book,” Spike explained, “Quite a prophetic name, apparently.”

Apple Bloom gagged at the image of a burnt-up pony in her mind before looking over her drake-friend’s shoulder to try and read the journal. She pouted at the fact she could only make out every tenth word; more than she had expected, but less than she had hoped for.

“Have you learned anything about your powers?” the filly asked.

“No, not really,” Spike sighed, “Being a journal, there’s not really a table of contents to work off of. Sometimes he talks about dragon biology, sometimes about culture, legends, language… he kinda goes all over the place.”

“Well, if the answers aren’t in there,” Apple Bloom nuzzled her head into Spike’s cheek, prompting him to use his claws to gently scratch her other cheek, “then you can always ask Ember. She’s the Dragon Lord! If any pony knows about dragon magic, it’ll be her.”

“Anybody,” Spike corrected.

“What?” Apple Bloom raised an eyebrow.

“Anybody, not any pony,” Spike explained, “Dragons aren’t ponies.”

“Whatever,” Apple Bloom giggled, unaware how it made Spike bristle in annoyance, “The point is, she’ll know how to help you.”

“Provided I can see her,” Spike grunted.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to see her?” Apple Bloom furrowed her brow.

“The way things are going I don’t think they’ll let me visit the Orduud…” Spike shrugged.

“That’s silly,” Apple Bloom snorted, “You’re the ambassador to the dragons! They need you, for Celestia’s sake!”

“Somehow I don’t feel they do,” the dragon sighed, closing the book. He marked his place for later reference; Cinder Crisp was getting to something called Thurdojun, whatever that was. “Isn’t it bad luck to see my filly-friend before a date, or something?”

“That’s brides and weddings, silly,” Apple Bloom giggled, knowing Spike was joking. Her cheeks blushed at the fact he called her his filly-friend, though.

“Oh yeah,” Spike chuckled, standing up. Both of the youths almost jumped back in surprise, eyes widening.

“S-Spike,” Apple Bloom scanned the dragon up and down, awed that she had to crane her neck more than a little to see his head, “You’ve grown even bigger!”

“I didn’t even notice,” the dragon looked down at the filly, stunned by his growth spurt; he must have been at least as tall as Ember, now, “I was so busy reading this journal on the way in here, I didn’t even bother to look around. Huh. I thought the walk was shorter this time around.”

“They were right,” Apple Bloom gave a goofy grin, “that is a lotta dragon.”

“Yeesh, and they say guys are bad,” Spike snorted, green-tinted smoke emitting from his nostrils, “Darn, and I just got new clothes, too. There’s no way the Boutique can get a new set made in time for tonight.”

“Aw, you were gonna dress up for our date?” Apple Bloom was touched.

“Of course,” Spike smiled, feeling some of his trepidation die away. Apple bloom was… cute. He didn’t have that allured sensation he had gotten from Rarity, or that deep-seated connection he had with Starlight, but the farm-filly was attractive in her own ways. The dragon was reminded of the idea that had pushed him to agree in the first place: perhaps he could learn to love her.

“There you two are!” Scootaloo almost dry-heaved after barreling into their group, doing a double-take at Spike, “Whoa, are you-? Never mind! Something huge just happened!”

“Something bigger than Spike?” Apple Bloom half-joked.

“The democratic city-states are supposed to vote today!” Scootaloo huffed, regaining her breath; evidently, she had come a great way at top speed to deliver the news, “Celestia used some kind of spell to be seen all over Equestria, though, and right before the vote!”

“What?!” Spike and Apple Bloom asked as one.

“What did she say?” the filly demanded.

“I just saw it,” Scootaloo had completely regained her breath, but was visibly shaken, “She basically called out all the democratic ponies as selfish, trying to rip up Equestria, and that her rule has been pretty good for the last thousand years, and that we need to be united now more than ever.”

“How dare she!” Apple Bloom hissed, having the good sense to make sure none of the abundant guards in the cafeteria heard her.

“Well, I mean, she has a point,” the pegasus chuckled, both her friends staring at her in astonishment, “What? I thought it made sense, myself. It sounded a lot better how she said it, trust me. She’s right; we should be united.”

“Isn’t freedom worth anything to you?” Spike asked, remembering the trapped feeling he had carried for most of his life.

“Of course it is!” Scootaloo shot back, then grimaced, “But Sweetie Belle might’ve been onto something when she said security was more important.”

“When was this?” Apple Bloom asked, stunned.

“When we were outside a few minutes ago,” the pegasus explained, “I rushed in here to tell you before, well… before things got crazy.”

Apple Bloom and Spike exchanged raised eyebrows of curiosity. Before they could ask for an explanation, the craziness hit the cafeteria.

“Looks like your silly little republic is falling flat on its face, traitors!” one of the Day Guard jeered at a Night Guard. Suddenly the cafeteria was divided between the two camps, though most only looked ready to intervene, not actively taking part in the argument that was unfolding.

“It’s not treason to support a democratic institution,” the Night Guard retorted, “especially when one of our leaders supports them!”

“Bah!” the Day Guard waved a hoof, dismissively, “Guards like you give the rest of us a bad name! You just sit back and let Empress Luna slip up, rather than intervening. If the Night Guard was the same a thousand years ago, I’m not surprised she fell for some demon’s tricks.”

“You dare to insult our leader?!” the Night Guard seethed, and even the most disinterested of his comrades glowered at the Day Guard.

“You don’t even use her title!” the Day Guard chortled, “Empress Luna! And you claim I disrespect her, cur?”

“I’ll bathe in your-!” the Night Guard started to charge, fangs bared, before another Night Guard landed in front of him, glowering in disapproval. The first Night Guard stopped and cowered back. “S-Sir Night Bane! My apologies, I… I lost my temper.”

“The time for honor duels is past, Private,” Night Bane said, “Besides, such effort would be wasted on this tin soldier; he knows nothing of honor, and certainly nothing of dueling.”

The Night Guard collectively snickered as the loudmouthed Day Guard took a step forward, outraged. Gutsy Gust stopped him with a wing and shook his head, which was enough to keep the Day Guard from escalating things. A great many of the Royal Guard had swapped details due to politics and now stayed silent or distant, unwilling to get in a conflict with their former comrades, so the rage slowly abated rather than grew. Within a few minutes, the cafeteria returned to functioning normally, though conversation was subdued and an obvious tension in the air.

“That was intense,” Spike noted.

“Yeah,” Scootaloo gave a mirthless chuckle, “You should have seen outside; what few republicans were here were being chewed out by imperialists, and only a handful bothered to argue back, the rest of them going into hiding all flustered. It’s like Celestia’s speech made every supporter of the republic suddenly… I don’t know.”

“Doubt themselves,” a new voice suggested, prompting the youths to turn. Spike felt his heart beat faster and drop simultaneously at Starlight Glimmer, looking full of contempt.

“Yeah, they did seem kind of self-doubting,” Scootaloo thought about it.

“It figures Celestia would pull something like this,” Starlight sighed, pointedly avoiding looking at Apple Bloom or Spike, unable to do so without crying. The youths’ cheeks were flushed in shame, though for different reasons regarding their confusing state of affairs. Starlight figured it would be better to ignore the elephant in the room and focus more on the deterioration of their would-be country. “News is cycling pretty fast; I got a letter from Sunburst about the Crystal Empire’s trepidation in a division of our kind. His views were… painfully pragmatic.”

“He’s an imp, I take it?” Apple Bloom asked.

Starlight spared her a look of surprise for the derogatory slang, but nodded.

“His reasoning is the same as most ponies,” the unicorn ground out, “They want stability and to feel safe, rather than the burden of being allowed to exercise freedoms and personal rights. It’s cowardly, but what can you do?”

“I don’t think it’s cowardly to want to be safe,” Scootaloo rolled her eyes, “Yeesh, all of you are being really mean about this. If it’s not Sweetie Belle busting my chops for wanting freedoms, it’s you guys insulting me for wanting security. I know politics is complicated, but do we really need to insult any pony – or non-pony – that isn’t in your camp?”

Spike blinked, pleasantly surprised someone had remembered to mention non-ponies without his prompting.

“Sorry, Scootaloo,” Starlight relaxed a little, “I guess we are letting this get a little away from us.”

“It’s just that we want ponies on our side,” Apple Bloom explained, “A republic can only work with the ponies’ support.”

“Starlight, do you even want to be part of Luna’s republic?” Spike asked, more than a little exasperated that Apple Bloom happened to only talk about ponies again. His frustration was the only thing letting him look at the unicorn.

Starlight spared an empty glance at him, her ‘I cannot show weakness’ façade chipping for only a second before hardening again.

“I support democracy,” was all she said.

“But you don’t support this kind of democracy!” Spike groaned, “You and Luna used to debate and hash out details, and now you refuse to say anything. It’s whatever Luna wants. The republic we were working on is her vision, not yours or mine or Apple Bloom’s.”

Starlight faltered, knowing the dragon was right, but Apple Bloom bristled.

“Even if all of that were true – which it ain’t! – we’ll be a democracy,” the filly explained, “Decisions will be in the hooves of ponies.”

“And?” Spike prompted.

“And?” Apple Bloom repeated, confused.

“And non-ponies,” Starlight filled in the gap. Apple Bloom rolled her eyes.

“I might forget to say it, but it’s implied, Spike,” she huffed.

Spike was about to retort when Starlight interrupted, pointing at the cafeteria’s clock, “It’s time. The voting has begun.”

Everyone grew deathly silent, even the guards, staring at the clock in anticipation before realizing they had no idea how long it would take. Slowly ponies pulled themselves away from watching to return to their usual duties, eager to distract themselves from a turning point in history. Apple Bloom left with Scootaloo to attend Celestia’s class, saying she looked forward to the date. Spike politely said the same, though he was still dreading it. Left alone, he and Starlight spared a hurt glance at the other before quickly absconding from each other in silence: Spike to read more from the journal, and Starlight to find something to occupy her time until the night courses.

Scootaloo and Apple Bloom made their way towards the classroom but were intercepted by Gutsy Gust before reaching it.

“The Empress is recovering from a powerful spell she cast earlier today,” the pegasus explained, briefly, “Unfortunately this means her class is cancelled today. I’d appreciate it if you informed the others.”

“Oh,” Apple Bloom blinked in surprise, “Sure thing.”

The fillies walked away, searching for Sweetie Belle and the twins. Oddly, they found Flim with Big Mac talking to some of the Night Guard in the courtyard, most likely about the vote. They approached them, waiting for them to be noticed before they spoke.

“The friendship lessons were cancelled today,” Scootaloo explained.

“I appreciate you keeping me up to date, but I’ve already dropped Celestia’s class,” Flim explained in as polite a tone he could muster.

“Wait, really?” Scootaloo asked, “Why?”

“Celestia’s lessons are… restrictive,” Flim grimaced, “Surely you’ve noticed it? It’s also a lot of work with no reward!”

“I thought she had positions set up for you two in that new financial thing?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I’d rather make my own way in the world, rather than regulate others,” Flim muttered, “Luna says we don’t have to worry about regulation in the Republic.”

“Isn’t unregulated business kind of dangerous?” Scootaloo asked. She didn’t pay much attention to those sorts of things, but she had seen her fair share of poor business choices having painful consequences on communities, such as Filthy Rich’s conquest of small businesses, or other business-ponies’ use of wealth to disregard laws.

“Oh, the things kids say,” Flim chuckled.

“I don’t pretend to understand it, myself,” Big Mac chimed in, “but if Luna says unregulated business can work, then I trust her. After all, aren’t republics built on freedom or something?”

“That makes sense,” Apple Bloom said, almost immediately.

Scootaloo furrowed her brow. Wasn’t there more to a republic than freedoms? Wasn’t there supposed to be checks and balances to promise security, even at the cost of limiting some ponies’ – and non-ponies’, she reminded herself – freedoms? Bah, maybe she should have taken those political courses… Still, something about how willingly Big Mac and Apple Bloom were to take Luna’s recommendations rather than debate hot points was… troubling. What was the point of being allowed to vote if nobody thought about what they were voting for and just agreed with the leadership?

Deciding it was better left to the politically-inclined, Scootaloo sighed and walked away as Apple Bloom attached herself to their little cluster. The pegasus filly went in search of Sweetie Belle and the other twin, almost unsurprised to find they were hanging out with members of the Day Guard. Scootaloo was beginning to see a pattern, and it wasn’t comforting.

“Celestia cancelled the friendship class today,” she informed them.

“Empress Celestia,” Sweetie Belle corrected, haughtily.

“Quite right,” Flam nodded.

“Right…” Scootaloo rolled her eyes, ignoring the sudden stoniness in the guards’ expressions, “Sweetie Belle, did you want to hang out, or something? Apple Bloom’s distracting herself from her date with politics, or something just as boring, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun, right?”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Sweetie frowned, “but Flam and I were going to practice some of our spells. Why don’t you and Spike practice your fighting?”

“That… class was canceled,” Scootaloo grimaced, “Permanently.”

“Oh. Well,” Sweetie Belle tapped her chin, “what about Starlight?”

“What about Starlight?” Scootaloo raised an eyebrow.

“Well…” Sweetie Belle led Scootaloo out of earshot of the others, looking around to make sure they were alone, “Surely you’ve noticed how close she was with Spike? And how they’ve been avoiding each other suspiciously right after Apple Bloom asked him out? Seriously, can you not feel the tension?”

“What’s your point?” the pegasus sighed.

“You should try hanging out with Starlight and Trixie,” Sweetie suggested, “Every pony else is kind of freaking out about the political climate, y’know? If I remember correctly, you and Trixie cared the least, right? And Starlight could probably use a friend right now.”

“It would be nice to hang out with some ponies who aren’t talking politics for a change…” Scootaloo nodded at the plan, “Alright, I’ll go see what they’re up to.”

Scootaloo sighed, longing for her scooter. She had packed it, but naturally there were rules against riding it through the castle grounds. Why couldn’t she fly? Even Sweetie Belle’s magic had developed over the years, but Scootaloo was still grounded. And not for lack of trying. She was so deep in thought that she slammed into Trixie and Starlight without realizing it.

“Did Rainbow Crash teach you that, too?” Trixie asked, dryly.

“Sorry,” Scootaloo picked herself up before helping the older mares, “I was looking for you two, actually.”

“Well, you found us,” Starlight giggled. Scootaloo could tell it was somewhat forced, her not-so-subtle relationship troubles bleeding through. Trixie’s annoyed expression temporarily lapsed into concern for her best friend before she returned to glaring at the pegasus filly who had – quite literally – ran into them. “What’s up?”

“I just thought we could hang out, y’know?” Scootaloo shrugged, “Class got canceled, and Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle are talking politics with guards…”

“Boring!” Trixie declared.

“Exactly!” Scootaloo grinned, “So, I figured since I’ve barely spent any time with either of you, maybe now is a good time to start.”

“I don’t see why not,” Starlight smiled, “What about you, Trixie?”

“Fine,” the magician huffed, “Trixie didn’t really get to do anything since last Saturday, and even then it was just Guys’ Night.”

“I thought you liked being the OM?” Scootaloo asked.

“Trixie will neither confirm nor deny that,” the blue unicorn coughed into her hoof dismissively, “What is there to do in Canterlot?”

The three ponies shifted around uncomfortably once they realized they had no idea what to do in the capital city. None of them had really spent a lot of time there, if at all.

“Um,” Scootaloo saw Spike in the background, now incredibly easy to spot with his height, “How about we ask Spike? He used to live here.”

She immediately regretted the decision on seeing Starlight’s face twist in pain, Trixie eying her worriedly. How could the pegasus filly forget the point of hanging out was to distract Starlight from her romantic troubles? Not make them worse!

“I-I don’t know,” Starlight forced a chuckle, “Apple Bloom probably wouldn’t appreciate me – us! – hanging out with her drake-friend.”

“You know anyone else who knows Canterlot?” Scootaloo pointed out, annoyed by the hesitancy, “You two shouldn’t try to avoid each other.”

“What?” Starlight asked in a voice that was entirely unonvincing, “We’re not… that’s not what we’re doing. You’re crazy – why would we be doing that? Come on…”

Scootaloo only glared at her older friend.

“Is it that obvious?” Starlight pouted.

“Yes,” Trixie answered for the pegasus, “Scootaloo is right, too: you can’t keep avoiding each other. We’re all friends, aren’t we?”

“You don’t want to avoid your friends, do you?” Scootaloo asked.

“Oh, fine!” Starlight rolled her eyes, “Yeesh, you two are worse than Twilight, you know that?”

“Trixie will take that as a compliment,” the magician smirked in triumph.

The trio approached the dragon who had managed to unconsciously navigate towards the library while reading. Clearly, even after two years away, he still had the castle’s halls memorized. Starlight felt her heart flutter and her face heat up. He was taller than her, probably even taller than Ember. Truth be told, she hadn’t stopped thinking about that since she saw him. Dragons changed so… much. Ponies were the same shape, more or less, from foalhood to adulthood, but dragons went from bipedal creatures to lumbering quadrupeds over time, if her memory served her. Why was he suddenly growing? It wasn’t even a consistent growth!

Her need to know more almost betrayed her as she missed her friends calling her, but she snapped out of it in time to see Spike turn to look at them. He paled considerably and looked ready to bolt.

“Spike, wait!” Starlight called out, arresting his escape. The dragon tensed, unwilling to face her. Scootaloo and Trixie followed the pink unicorn, trusting her lead. Starlight grimaced; what exactly would she say, anyway? “Look, this is silly.”

“What’s silly?” Spike asked, trying to play off the elephant in the room.

“How we’re acting,” Starlight giggled, the sound of her laughter easing his tension, “We’ve been avoiding each other. I’m sorry for that. Can’t we just… go back to the way things were?”

Spike eyed her, his expression unreadable as he ran through his own thinking on it. Things were so confused between them. Ultimately, though, he wanted to be around her, even if they were only friends. He smiled and nodded and they both felt instantly relieved. Scootaloo and Trixie let out the pent-up breath they had both been holding.

“What did you want to do?” the dragon asked, not used to looking down at his friends.

“We don’t really know what there is to do,” Scootaloo explained, “None of us have really lived here.”

“We need an expert on the local scenery,” Starlight said, unable to keep a flirtatious edge from her voice. Rather than be uncomfortable, Spike rolled with it; after all, that was how they acted before.

“Well, I am the expert on the best holes-in-the-wall in Canterlot,” Spike chuckled. Trixie seemed pleased, though Scootaloo felt worried.

Putting her trepidation aside, Scootaloo followed the group, eager to distract herself from the smoldering glares and conniving whispers of the armchair politicos every pony had turned into. It didn’t take long for the dragon to change all that. Scootaloo was amazed as Spike showed them from one little-known pleasant place to the next, from donut and coffee shops to parks. Shops that appeared unimpressive turned out to hold an assortment of curios none of them had ever witnessed before. Restaurants none of them would have even noticed turned out to serve some of the best food they had ever tasted. Best of all, everywhere they went, they were welcomed warmly – any friend of Spike, they said, was a friend of theirs.

“Your reputation here is almost as glowing as your reputation in the Crystal Empire,” Starlight giggled.

“Wait,” Scootaloo said through a mouthful of gourmet cupcake, “all that stuff you said about saving the Crystal Empire was true?” she swallowed, “I thought you were exaggerating!”

“Oh, it’s true, alright,” Starlight nodded, “They have a giant crystal statue of him in town square and everything.”

“What does Trixie have to do to get a statue?” the magician asked in a huff, “We already saved Equestria…”

“Well, I did save the Crystal Empire more than once…” Spike chuckled, “Maybe you could save Ponyville a few times?”

“Twilight doesn’t have a statue,” Trixie pointed out, “neither do her friends.”

“True, but they do have stained windows dedicated to them in the castle,” Spike noted, “and Twilight became a Princess.”

“Ha! Trixie doubts she could become a Princess,” the magician thought about it, “You know, permanently.”

“I wonder if pegasi can become Princesses,” Scootaloo thought aloud, blushing at her friends’ stares, “It’s just a thought…”

“A very interesting one…” Starlight tapped her chin, thinking about it, “Twilight was a unicorn… I wonder if Luna and Celestia were, too?”

“Trixie thought they were born alicorns, like… forever ago.”

“Twilight said Flurry Heart was the only born alicorn,” Spike explained, “That means Celestia and Luna must have been something else before they became Princesses.”

“Wow, so I could become an alicorn?” Scootaloo gaped, “That’s kinda cool.”

“’Kinda’?! That’s amazing!” Trixie gushed.

“What’s the matter, Scoots?” Spike asked, “I thought you wanted to be a Princess? I mean, you asked and all.”

“The question was… how did Celestia phrase it? ‘Merely academic’,” Scootaloo imitated the Empress’ tone, “I really don’t want to be.”

“Why not?” Trixie asked.

“They’re immortal, aren’t they?” Scootaloo frowned, “I don’t really want to outlive everybody I love, y’know? I mean, what if I fall in love? I’d have to watch them die!”

“Unless you’re in love with another alicorn, of course,” Starlight smirked, looking directly at Trixie, who blushed in response.

“Yeah, but aren’t alicorns all mares?” Scootaloo snorted, “Wait, you don’t think I ‘play for the other team’ do you?” The pegasus then noticed Starlight giggling at Trixie’s discomfort and the pieces fell into place, “Oh. Ohhhhhh… Oh!”

“Wow, really?” Spike asked the magician, “Which Princess?”

The mares – Trixie included – deadpanned at the dragon.

“Right…” he chuckled, “I guess you’ve only been close to one before. I wouldn’t have to call you mom, would I?”

“Trixie would prefer you didn’t make her feel quite so old…” the magician’s cheeks flushed, “You… don’t have a problem with it?”

Spike exchanged looks with Starlight and Scootaloo before smiling.

“No,” he admitted, “Why? Should I?”

“Well, I- Trixie did enslave Ponvyille once…” Trixie said, eyes downcast, “and she hasn’t exactly been a good friend in the past…”

“Twilight considers you a good friend, Trixie,” Spike assured her, “and you weren’t in control during that whole enslaving thing.”

“Besides, she forgave me for enslaving and nearly destroying the world,” Starlight giggled, “You’re overthinking it, Trixie.”

“B-but-”

“Look,” Spike sighed, “Twilight has changed a lot since we moved to Ponyville. Maybe, when she was younger, she’d hold your past against you, but Twilight hasn’t said a word against you in years,” Spike thought about that, “Well, a year anyway.”

“You give surprisingly wise romantic advice, considering how shot your own romance is,” Trixie snorted at her remark before realizing it was intended to be a private thought, “Oh! I-I mean-”

“Er, so how about this kebab?” Scootaloo interrupted, deciding now was as good a time to change the subject as any, “I never expected grilled pineapple to go so well with grilled onions! What kind of spices do you think they use?”

“Salt…” Trixie murmured, face still flushed in embarrassment, “paprika, I think…”

The rest of the meal was enjoyed in awkward silence, broken occasionally by overhearing other groups mutter about the vote going on. The party left to follow Spike to one of his favorite hideaways – a small patch of soft grass along a creek running through the outskirts of Canterlot, hidden by a bridge and shady trees. The four sprawled out, basking in the sinking sunlight and enjoying a degree of peace away from the busy city.

“Yeesh, Spike, you proved to be the best guide,” Starlight said.

“Yeah, today was amazing,” Scootaloo laughed, “I almost forgot about the vote!”

“Even Trixie is curious now,” the magician yawned, waking up from her nap, grass in her mane, “how do you think it went?”

“We could go find out,” Spike looked at the position of the sun, “I need to get ready for my date with Apple Bloom, anyway.”

“Hopefully she’s not too distracted by this republic stuff,” Scootaloo sighed, “She’s probably the smartest of us, but she tends to get carried away sometimes…”

“Either way, I’m not going to be late for my first date,” Spike stood to his full height, stretching out his arms. Starlight blushed at the lithe musculature that now lay beneath his scales. She had always found his rotundness cute and endearing, and she was proud to say physical attraction was a minor concern of hers, but… tall, sleek Spike was even more attractive to her, especially when he was being noble and responsible.

It only twisted her heart a little that he was being noble and responsible about another mare. Maybe the pain would go away in time.

The quartet returned to the city, noticing with mounting tension the change in attitude of the ponies. The city looked almost in a state of riot, with crowds of ponies shouting and screaming in outrage, guards struggling to keep the mobs from attacking smaller groups who wore triumphant smirks. Things only got worse the closer they got to the castle, the crowds larger and more volatile. Demonstrations and counter-demonstrations were raging, ponies in a tumult over what they assumed correctly to be the vote.

“There she is!” one of the ponies raged, pointing at Starlight, “Get her!”

Starlight blanched as a mob swarmed towards them, but they stopped in their tracks as Spike stood between them, drawing himself above them and snarling. Before they could regain their courage, another mob – much smaller than the first – got themselves between Spike and Starlight’s would-be aggressors.

“Get her out of here!” the ringleader of the second group declared, “We’ll hold them off!”

Spike was stunned but did as ordered, leading Starlight and the others through a series of little-known back alleys to bypass the courtyard and enter the castle subtly. The Day Guard on duty eyed them with contempt but let them in.

What they hay was going on?


…



Earlier that day…


Apple Bloom checked the clock again. It was almost 5:00 PM, and she hadn’t seen Spike for some time. Their date wasn’t until 7:00, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but… She shook her head as she noticed an excited Night Guard rushing to their little group. The Night Guard barracks was usually off-limits to civilians, but it was now overflowing with secret supporters of the Republic, civilian and military alike. They grew silent as the Night Guard approached, steadying his breath.

“What news?” Night Bane asked. Every pony leaned in, expectantly.

“The votes have been tallied,” the guard huffed out, “the Republic will be created.”

Immediately the ponies cheered, Apple Bloom and Flim included. Apple Bloom let her cheering die when she noticed the messenger wasn’t finished. Slowly the cheering petered out as others realized the same. The Night Guard looked too nervous to continue.

“But?” a new voice rang out, drawing all eyes to its source. Most of the ponies immediately bowed at seeing Luna striding into their midst, but she urged them to quit the archaic habit. She waited for the Night Guard to continue.

“…But only five city-states voted to join,” he finished, “the others were plagued with… indecision.”

“Which city-states?” Luna asked, her voice and face betraying nothing.

“Prance, Marexico, and Stalliongrad…” the Night Guard said, then paused, “Madame… are you aware of the message…?”

“Continue, soldier,” Luna ordered, gravely.

“Within Equestria proper…” the guard swallowed, “…only Appleloosia and Las Pegasus voted to join…”

Luna exhaled slowly.

“And the election?” she asked. It was unknown in the waking world, but she had the leaders of each republican city-state put it on the ballot.

“Which one?” the guard asked.

“The… the one for President,” Luna clarified, “There was another?”

“Indeed,” the guard smiled in spite of the situation, “They wanted to surprise you with a name for the Republic.”

“Then the results for both,” Luna nodded, sharing in his smile. She already knew their chosen name – it was hardly a surprise.

“As per your suggestion,” the guard chuckled, “Starlight Glimmer has almost unanimously been elected President of the Lunar Republic.”

“Well, at least there is some good news,” Luna smirked, “even if they did have to use such a ridiculous name…”

“Starlight is President?” Apple Bloom gaped, “Wait, when did you have all this recommended? I never heard about any of this!”

“She had us gather in the dream realm,” Flim explained, “Adult stuff – no fillies under voting age.”

“Wait, you’re putting an age limit on voting, too?” Apple Bloom pouted.

“It’s the same as the age of consent,” Luna explained, “That is to say, dependent on the city-state’s definition of ‘maturity’.”

“Only Appleloosia and Las Pegasus…” one of the civilian ponies muttered, “I can’t believe Manehattan backed out…”

“I can’t believe my hometown backed out too,” another added.

“This is a nightmare…”

“I thought all of Equestria would be behind us…”

Luna eyed them all with sympathetic pain, clearly not expecting this. If any city-states were to back out, she figured they’d be the ones with imperial pasts and thus more prone to relapse. Prance might have been one of the earliest democratic city-states, but it had also been one of the most successful imperial city-states – and historically fluctuated. More surprising was Stalliongrad, a city-state infamous for being one of the harshest imperial city-states until recent decades saw it violently convert to democracy. Even now it had traces of its imperial policies complicating their democratic institutions, and if any city-state would revert, Luna had expected it to be Stalliongrad.

“Soldier,” she spoke up at last, silencing the quiet despair of her supporters, “you mentioned a message?”

“Yes.”

“What did it say? Who sent it?”

Every pony was deathly silent. The guard couldn’t bring himself to speak. Night Bane approached her and whispered in her ear. The widening of her eyes a fraction and a hardness to her jaw was the only betrayal of the flash of murderous rage that surged through her before she put it in check. She allowed herself to calm down, putting on her best face and smiling. Immediately her supporters perked up, not expecting this turnaround.

“My friends, there is no need to despair,” Luna said, “The Republic lives, and while it is small now, I have no doubt that in time – seeing us succeed – the others will remember their desire for freedom and join us. We will stand together through this trial, and we will stand tall.”

The ponies nodded, slowly, her words soothing their psyches. It was a setback, not a defeat. Luna wouldn’t allow herself to succumb to her dismay or anger, now all-too-aware of the presence of that… Nightmare. It was a duty she had let slip through her grasp in her eagerness to modernize and unite her race.

“Apple Bloom, Flim, Big Macintosh, please accompany me,” Luna said, “Night Bane, send for Starlight Glimmer.”

“I believe she’s outside of the castle with my former squires,” the pegasus informed her, “but I will tell the guards to keep their eyes peeled. If any of them still listen to me, that is.”

Night Bane flew off to carry out his orders while Luna led her confidants to her personal study. Flim and Apple Bloom looked around in awe, but the filly noticed Big Mac seemed familiar enough with the place. She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. Was Big Mac being sweet on Luna behind her back? Actually, considering how the Crusaders tried to meddle with his love life before, it shouldn’t have been a surprise he’d keep any romances secret.

“I’m honored to be invited here, Luna,” Apple Bloom said, looking at the arcade machine propped in the corner; the top scores were all LULU except one which read KAOS, “but why are we here?”

We are waiting to congratulate our mutual friend – and the future President of the Lunar Republic,” Luna smiled, levitating a crate of bottled drinks from a closet. Flim blanched as he recognized them. “I never knew my sister had vineyards… It almost cost me a foreleg and a hind-leg to afford this crate. Did you know it’s the last batch of Princess Berry Pop in Canterlot?”

“You don’t say…” Flim wiped sweat from his brow.

“I don’t know why Celestia shut down production,” Luna tsked, “Oh well! There’s no better time to drink it then at a celebration.”

It didn’t take long for the guest of honor to arrive, along with her friends. Apple Bloom joined her brother and Flim in greeting them, but noticed how confused and worried they looked. What had them so spooked?

“Congratulations, Madame President,” Luna greeted the pink mare as she drew closer, startling her even more.

“Wait, what now?” Starlight blinked, looking at Spike as if he could explain. The dragon only shrugged.

“You were on the ballot to become the leader of the Lunar Republic,” Luna explained, smiling, “and you won. You are now the first President of the Lunar Republic.”

“I-I can’t believe this…” Starlight swayed, quickly being supported by Spike and Trixie by her sides, “This is so sudden… I-I didn’t even know I was on the ballot! I never volunteered!”

“I nominated you,” Luna said, “You are an appropriate age, you have leadership experience, and you have a sharp mind for politics.”

“This is just… so weird,” Starlight sat down, still trying to take it in. Luna levitated a beverage to her which she chugged down, “Is that why those ponies tried to attack me?”

“Ponies tried to attack you?” Flim gaped.

“Some other ponies helped us escape,” Scootaloo added.

“The situation within Canterlot has… deteriorated,” Night Bane summarized to Luna, “The Roy- I mean, the Imperial Guard is busy quelling riots, but things are tense. I imagine it’s like this in every city-state.”

“I didn’t expect rioting over this…” Luna frowned, “How is my sister handling the situation?”

“Celestia hasn’t been seen since earlier today,” Flim explained, “She, uh… she left with my brother to somewhere in the castle.”

“Oh, so now she takes my advice?!” Luna rolled her eyes, “And really? Into the castle? She must be in her private study.”

“Wow, Flam works fast,” Scootaloo noted, drawing eyes towards her, “Oh, come on! You were all thinking it!”

“Anyway,” Luna shook her head in an effort to get an unwanted mental image out, “I know you’ve just gotten into your office, but you will need to select a Chancellor soon, and familiarize yourself with the Lunar Republic’s laws and your duties.”

“…On top of class?” Starlight murmured, too stunned to think clearly.

“Consider yourself graduated,” Luna smirked, “with honors.”

“Oh cool…” the unicorn shook her head vigorously, regaining awareness, “Wait, a Chancellor?”

“Yes,” the Empress of the Night nodded, “Anybody you think will fulfill the role. We don’t have detailed laws, yet, but the general consensus so far is that political offices must be held by ponies who are citizens of the Republic and adults.”

“What about non-ponies?” Spike asked.

“Er…” Luna’s eyes widened in surprise, “Perhaps… down the road. I’m not sure if a unified Equestria should begin with a non-pony in office. Things are tenuous now, and with only five city-states behind us, we cannot be expected to-”

“Five?!” Starlight exclaimed, “What happened to all of the other city-states supporting us?!”

“My sister sent out some message moments before the vote,” Luna scowled, “Apparently it was quite persuasive.”

“Apparently,” Starlight deadpanned, “Alright, well if I can’t choose Spike or Apple Bloom since they’re too young…”

Her eyes drifted towards Big Mac and Flim, but both shied away, clearly not interested in the responsibility such an office would force on them. In truth, Starlight wasn’t eager to put them in that position, either. Flim was too eager to be a business-pony with no regard to the impact his quest for profit would have on their young nation’s economy – if they even had an economy with five city-states… As for Big Mac, Starlight seriously doubted his agricultural skills would translate well into managing a nation’s infrastructure. Her eyes turned to Trixie who merely shook her head. Again, Starlight figured, probably not the best option.

“I appoint you, Luna, as Chancellor of the Lunar Republic,” Starlight decided.

“W-what?” the alicorn’s eyes widened. Starlight was surprised; she figured Luna had planned this decision, but it seemed the Empress of the Night had no interest in being an officeholder in the Republic. “I am an Empress; I cannot perform duties for both nations! If I am a leader in both, then I will not be effective in either! Worse, I will be viewed as a traitor to both camps and undermine support for the Republic as a whole!”

“So we have to pick sides, now?” Starlight challenged, “If that’s the case, then which side are you on? The Republic, or the Empire?”

“I cannot pick a side in this,” Luna shook her head, “not without jeopardizing everything. I must stay in the Empire and convince Equestrians to support the Republic. In time, I can smooth over relations and we can move forward, but until then… I dare not risk it.”

“Ugh!” Starlight growled, “Who else is there?”

“There is one mare in Canterlot who might be interested…” Night Bane brought up. Starlight nodded for him to continue, “Senator Mare of Ponyville arrived recently. She’s a supporter of democracy, and I’m under the impression she’s not pleased with the changes Princess Twilight has been making to Ponyville.”

“Twilight’s been changing things?” Spike asked, “Mayor Mare isn’t, well, mayor anymore?”

“Princess Twilight has been converting Ponyville to the imperial system dictated by Empress Celestia,” Night Bane explained, “much against the wishes of half her subjects, if rumors are to be believed.”

“I will approach Senator Mare about this,” Starlight sighed, tossing her bottle into a recycling bin as she headed for the door.

“But, your celebration…?” Luna almost seemed hurt.

“I’ll celebrate when there’s peace,” Starlight growled out, irritated she had been forced into this position, “Until then, save me a bottle of that soda!”

With that, Starlight left.


…



Meanwhile near Ponyville


The party had been going well enough, despite the tension. Twilight had convinced Rarity and Rainbow Dash to attend and, after some coaxing with cider, Rainbow had become amiable once more. Slowly, ever so slowly, the tension of the vote was forgotten, as was the tension about Fluttershy’s sovereignty. Slowly they looked past it all and remembered their friendship which had stood countless trials.

Too slow, it turned out.

“Princess!” a voice shouted moments before something heavy slammed into the door of Fluttershy’s cabin.

Startled, the homeowner answered her door to find a dazed Derpy Hooves lying on her doormat, eyes spinning from the impact. The party waited for the gray pegasus to recover from her impact, standing on her legs. Staring at the Princess of Friendship – and at some part of the ceiling – Derpy looked close to tears.

“Princess!” she began, “You need to return to Ponyville quickly! Everything’s gone crazy!”

“What?” Twilight blinked, looking over her shoulder at her friends before looking back at the mail-pony, “What happened?”

“The vote for the public thing!” Derpy said, “I-I don’t know what’s going on, but every pony started yelling, then they started fighting, and now all the muffins are burnt, and the Doctor told me to come get you, and-”

“Okay, okay!” Twilight said quickly, trying to soothe the increasingly-emotional pegasus before she wound up with a hyperventilating mare on Fluttershy’s doorstep, “Girls, we need to go! Ponyville needs us!”

Without even a second thought, they rushed out of Fluttershy’s cabin, a stunned Discord following them hesitantly. Derpy, startled by their suddenness, took a moment longer before following. Within a few minutes they were back in Ponyville, shocked at the unfolding chaos. Carts were overturned, windows smashed in, and ponies openly fighting each other. Few noticed the approach of the mares who had saved their lives countless times; even fewer cared. Only a handful of ponies – mostly Cheerilee and the children – were trying to stay out of the fights, boarding up windows and hiding. Twilight saw the disharmony and felt her blood boiling over.

“What is going on here?!” she demanded using the full force of her Royal Voice.

The fighting immediately stopped, her subjects flinching back. Those closest to her were physically knocked over and stunned, and even after seconds lapsed in its wake, Twilight could still hear the echo of her demand reverberating through the town. Normally it would embarrass her, the idea that she had overdone it, but in this instance, she felt she had underdone it, if anything.

“Princess Twilight!” Octavia huffed, coming out of a crowd, limping. Vinyl Scratch was clutched to one of her hind-legs, gnawing at it like some kind of coyote, but Octavia ignored her. “These republic curs are openly defying your rule!”

“As if!” Vinyl dragged herself up from the ground, “All we wanted was to have our vote! Ponyville is a democratic city-state!”

“Ponyville is ruled by an Alicorn Princess!” Octavia shot back, prompting a new wave of arguments from the crowd that had just stopped arguing.

“Silence!” Twilight shouted, stunning them once more, “Ponyville isn’t allowed to vote to secede!”

“Now Twi, hold on a minute…” Applejack began.

“No, I’m not going to humor any pony with this,” the Princess huffed, “I’m sorry, but I won’t risk disharmony in Equestria because a few of you want to vote on silly issues that don’t affect most of you, anyway!”

“We have a right to participate in our-” one pony began.

“Yes, you do,” Twilight interrupted, “and you can do so by participating in the City-State Council I’ve designed – as per Celestia’s recommendation. You elect members to it, and they work with me in governing Ponyville.”

The republican towns-ponies hesitated, unsure how to react to that. The imperial towns-ponies only seemed slightly curious at the suggestion, wondering why the Princess would even need elected officials to help her. Frankly, it seemed like pandering to the masses to them.

“If democracy is so important to you,” Twilight began, much calmer, “then I will not stop you from leaving to go to this new republic. However, I beg you to please just try out this system. It’s almost identical to what we’ve been doing, but with the laws many of you asked for to help protect you! Don’t give up on Celestia, not yet. Please don’t give up on me…”

The republican towns-ponies looked down in embarrassment at Twilight’s humility and sincerity. Immediately the fires of their discontent were snuffed out, replaced by shame at having gotten so worked up over something that, in the moment, seemed inconsequential. Slowly, one-by-one, the republican towns-ponies bowed or quietly left. Pleased, the imperial towns-ponies also bowed. Twilight looked over her shoulder to see Rarity and Rainbow Dash nodding approval. Applejack, Pinkie Pie, and Fluttershy looked conflicted, but nodded to show their support of her decision.

The Princess sighed in relief. She had averted a major crisis and managed to preserve her composure the entire time, avoiding making the situation worse. She smiled at her subjects, trying her best to imitate Celestia’s usual grace.

“Now then,” she said, “let us work together to clean up this mess and rebuild our town, shall we?”

Slowly both groups of towns-ponies joined her and the other Elements in repairing Ponyville, singing songs and repairing more than just broken windows and splintered storefronts. Twilight felt elated at the crisis she had averted, feeling she had fulfilled her duty as the Princess of Friendship. It was a brilliant sensation, one that filled her with hope. Ponyville had been saved, which meant that the rest of Equestria – and the older pony city-states outside Equestria – could be, too.

She had no idea the tempest that was building outside of their humble little town.
> 18
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


18


“This isn’t where I would expect a senator to spend her evenings,” Starlight said as she stepped onto the terrace of Canterlot’s westernmost parks.

The senator in question rounded at the newcomer, surprised, but instantly relieved.

“Oh! It’s you, Starlight,” Senator Mare smiled softly, “I just needed some time away from politics. Everything’s gone to heck in a handbasket since the vote was revealed. Congratulations, by the way.”

“Yeah, it’s an honor,” Starlight said, sarcastically, “Actually, that’s kind of why I’m here… I wanted to ask you if you were interested in being my Chancellor?”

“Chancellor?” Senator Mare asked, vaguely familiar with the title from her studies, “I’m not sure…”

“Mare – can I call you Mare?” Starlight asked. Senator Mare tilted her head, curious, but smiled and nodded. “Alright, well, I didn’t want to be President, but they kind of hoisted it on me. I’m not allowed to appoint anyone else from my political class because they’re ‘too young’. The only pony I know who fits the bill, then, is you.”

“Me?” the senator prompted.

“You have years of political experience and know how to run a government,” Starlight explained, “and you’re well-known and liked by ponies. I also have a sneaking suspicion you support the Republic, at least on some level. Otherwise, why would you run in elections? You must have a soft spot for democracy, right?”

“Well, all of these things are true,” Senator Mare chuckled, then looked back west, “but my loyalties lie first and foremost with my constituents in Ponyville. I can’t simply just abandon them for the Lunar Republic.”

Starlight mulled that over, quietly looking at the very faint light that was Ponyville in the distance. At night, in the city, it was invisible amidst the light and splendor of Canterlot, but this far out it could still be seen.

“You wouldn’t be abandoning them,” the unicorn said, softly, “I’ve heard through word of mouth that Ponyville is divided on the Republic, with roughly half the town favoring it. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t your constituents the ones who voted you in?”

“Obviously,” Senator Mare giggled, not seeing the point.

“How many ponies in Ponyville actually participated in the elections?” Starlight asked, “Out of the total voting population, I mean?”

“I’d say only about… half…” the senator’s eyes widened as she made the connection. She turned to face the President of the newborn nation, “You are assuming that the voters who put me in office all support the Republic.”

“They support democracy,” Starlight explained, “and they trust you to do what is best for them. Also, don’t pretend they voted to appoint you Senator of Ponyville. I’m fairly certain many of the ponies back home are quite upset they had no say in the matter.”

“Even so, I was given this job by Princess Twilight…” Senator Mare didn’t sound convinced by her own argument.

“And that is a great honor,” the unicorn nodded, “but I know Twilight, and she will not fault you for turning it down or following the path that you think is best.”

Senator Mare frowned, looking genuinely indecisive as her eyes shifted around, physically searching for some sort of decisive factor she hadn’t considered. Starlight knew she had to say something to help make the decision easier. She smiled, recognizing Senator Mare’s heart lay with her city-state.

“Ponyville isn’t part of the Republic, as you probably know,” she said, “but that’s because many of the ponies were frightened off from voting by threats that secession meant destroying Equestria. Every pony thinks the Republic is going to fall apart, that it can’t be run seriously – that democracy is folly because it puts decision making into the hooves of regular ponies like us.”

“Is this supposed to reassure me?”

“I’m getting there,” Starlight snapped, “They fear all of this, but if they see the Republic thrive, if they see it survive and grow stronger, then all the city-states who backed out will rejoin, and we’ll grow stronger. Seeing that, the rest of Equestria will follow,” Starlight grew serious and looked the former mayor dead in the eyes, “but it will require exceptional leadership in the beginning to pull it off, and only you can help me with that.”

“Surely there are others more suited-” the senator began.

“There is no one else,” Starlight assured her, then smiled, “You are the Lunar Republic’s – all of ponykind’s – greatest hope, right now.”

Senator Mare blinked, feeling a little heady at the idea of being the savior of her entire race, but she shook off her delusions of grandeur with practiced ease. Nobody became a successful politician by overestimating themselves so drastically. Looking back at Ponyville one more time, Senator Mare looked at Starlight and nodded.

“In less than a week I have gone from being Ponyville’s longest running mayor, to being its first senator,” she noted, “and now I shall be the first chancellor of a new nation. This has been an interesting chapter in my life.”

Starlight smiled and placed a comforting hoof on the Chancellor’s shoulder.

“It’s not over yet,” she pointed out.


…


They avoided looking at each other, eyes downcast to their silverware, faces heated in embarrassment. Spike had begun twiddling his thumbs while Apple Bloom shifted her silverware around, trying to determine which forks she was supposed to use for which dishes. Both of them furrowed their brows in consternation. This was getting ridiculous! They were on a date, for crying out loud; there was absolutely no reason to be wasting their time in awkward silence, especially when they had the added bonus that the government they helped create was off to a successful start. Both opened their mouths to talk and their words cancelled each other’s out, prompting them to simultaneously click their jaws shut, faces flushing in newfound embarrassment. Realizing they had been unconsciously mirroring each other the entire night, the two youths burst into laughter, ignoring the glares of the soft-spoken elite around them.

“We’re being silly,” Apple Bloom said after regaining control of her breathing, “How are things with you?”

“Really, that’s your best opener?” Spike smirked.

“Alright then, let’s see yours,” Apple Bloom laughed.

“Okay, uh…” the dragon scratched his chin, “What’s going on?”

“That’s exactly what I asked-” the farm filly rolled her eyes, “Never mind. I’m doing pretty good, but…”

“But?”

“It’s nothing,” Apple Bloom shook her head, not wanting to kill the mood, “Applejack’s letters come in often. She and Granny Smith are writing me every day, I guess, and it’s getting a little annoying.”

“I could see why that might get annoying,” Spike chuckled, but Apple Bloom saw the dragon had saddened some.

“Did I say something wrong?” she asked.

“Oh, no.”

“Spike…”

“Okay, okay!” the dragon held his hands up, “Well, I still haven’t gotten a letter back from Twilight… Neither has Starlight, or Trixie.”

“Oh,” Apple Bloom frowned. Spike winced at the look of pity she gave him, trying to remind himself it was one of sympathy. “I’m sure she’s safe.”

“I hope so, but that’s not what has me worried,” Spike sighed, “I… said some things to her before I left – things that might be… awkward. The letter I sent her asked about them; I’m worried that’s why she isn’t responding.”

“I see,” Apple Bloom tapped her hooves on the table. She took a deep breath and exhaled. “Remember when I said ‘it’s nothing’?”

“Considering it happened less than a minute ago, yes.”

“Don’t get lippy,” the filly snorted, “Well, what I was gonna say was that everything’s great except that my brother is going to move to Appleloosia.”

“What?” Spike looked shocked, “W-why?”

“To be with the Republic,” Apple Bloom explained, “Ponyville didn’t join, so that’s where he has to go.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Spike sighed, “I’ll miss him, but I can only imagine what-”

“Excuse me, but did you say your brother is part of that Republic nonsense every pony keeps going on about?” a unicorn asked, one Spike recognized as Fleur de Lis. Other unicorns were also gathered.

“Yeah…?” Apple Bloom narrowed her eyes, uncomfortable with the hoity-toity appearances of the restaurant since entering. Now with a bunch of elites sneering down at her in condescension, she’d lost her appetite before even getting their overpriced appetizers.

“Is he aware how many of us suffered at the hands of those democratic trapes in the past?” the unicorn asked, icily. Another unicorn, one Spike recognized as Fancy Pants, moved towards her side, looking down on her with sympathy.

“Suffered?” Apple Bloom asked.

“Suffered!” Fleur snapped before the filly had finished speaking, “My family came from Prance and was thrown out by those treacherous curs! Prance used to be the grandest and most majestic city-state in the world, and now it lacks splendor and glory. My family was evicted for no other reason than that they were born!”

“That all seems pretty one-sided…” the filly frowned, then smirked, “Wait, was your family the noble family that ran Prance?”

“Indeed it was,” Fleur said, pleased that someone recognized her pedigree.

“The same noble family that unfairly taxed the poor to line their palaces with gold?” Apple Bloom asked, “Then told the towns-ponies to go eat grass when they couldn’t get any hay?”

“Those are greatly exaggerated accounts!” Fleur blushed, “My family used to rule Prance! We elevated it from a backwater into a world power, and those, those… those insolent nobodies betrayed my cousins and drove us out because they had to pay a little extra! A city-state as great as Prance is maintained with wealth, driven by the vision of its rulers under the guidance of Empress Celestia; not dictated to by street urchins and bumbling farmers who know nothing about the greater world!”

“I think they get the point, dear…” Fancy Pants muttered, clearly uncomfortable with this side of his companion.

“Forgive me, I-” Fleur began, trying to visibly calm herself, but Apple Bloom stood up, staring defiantly into her face.

“I will not forgive you!” she declared, “I came here to enjoy a date with my drake-friend, and you decide to waltz over and pry into my personal business, criticize my whole family, and moan about the fact that your family got exactly what they deserved? And you want me to forgive you?! I most certainly will not! Now, if’n you don’t mind, this bumbling farmer is going to go somewhere where the atmosphere is a little less stuffy.”

The filly trotted past the stunned socialites, leaving an equally stunned Spike in her wake. She stopped near the exit.

“Spike! You coming?”

“Uh, yes,” the dragon mumbled, awkwardly making his way past the indignant unicorns that were slowly recovering and shooting venomous glares at them.

“Good day!” the filly declared, leaving with Spike. The bus colt at the door gave a sly nod of approval towards the working class filly, pleased to see a ‘little guy’ standing up to his clientele.

Spike followed his date for several minutes, wondering where exactly she thought she was going but knowing she needed time to cool her head. Finally, the filly stopped, obviously lost in the unfamiliar city and emotional from a combination of outrage and embarrassment for losing her temper.

“That was-” the dragon began.

“Ugh, don’t say it!” the filly screwed her eyes shut, “That was so embarrassing!”

“I was going to say that was pretty cool, actually,” Spike chuckled, startling his date, “The way you stood up to those snobs? I’ve never seen any of them get worked up enough to insult the poor, but I’ve always suspected… Anyway, that was awesome how you put her in her place like that.”

“I…” Apple Bloom grimaced, “I don’t know, maybe that was too much. I’ve always tried to think the best of ponies, even the snobby ones. The Crusaders and I gave Diamond Tiara a chance, and now she’s one of our best friends. I know she’s not a bad pony for being rich, but I feel like having all that money does something to ponies, you know?”

“I’m a dragon,” Spike laughed, “If there’s one thing I know all too well, it’s that greed can turn you into a monster. It’s why I don’t have many possessions.”

“I feel bad that you don’t,” the filly frowned, “You deserve nice things.”

“I have a good life, and good friends, and a family that cares about me,” the drake shrugged, “I’m the ambassador to two different races, and practically worshipped by the Crystal Empire… I don’t have a lot of need for wealth.”

Apple Bloom looked around, noticing the street was almost deserted. She thought over what she wanted to ask carefully, knowing it was a touchy subject.

“Out of curiosity,” she began, slowly, “if all that’s true, then why are you so upset about the pony, non-pony thing?”

“What?”

“Well, you’re just so dead-set on the recognition of non-ponies in law for some reason,” Apple Bloom shrugged, nonchalantly, “I mean, you’re a walking success story! You’re practically considered a pony, so why make laws protecting you? No pony actively tries to remove your rights… I just don’t get it.”

Spike sighed. He was actually having a good time, too.

“You’ve heard about the portal to that other dimension, right? That whole adventure?” Spike asked.

“Yeah?” Apple Bloom quirked an eyebrow.

“Well, when ponies go through, they become humans – these weird, hairless ape things that are the dominant species on the planet,” Spike looked away, “Do you know what dragons turn into?”

“I don’t know,” the filly scratched her head, “Lizard humans?”

“No,” Spike chuckled mirthlessly, “We turn into dogs. We’re pets.”

Apple Bloom stayed silent, not sure how to respond.

“It never really bothered me until a few weeks ago when I started considering my place in Equestria,” the dragon continued, “I was taken as an egg and used for an entrance exam for a unicorn magic school, then spent my childhood being trained as her maid and secretary. You call my life a success story or non-ponies living here, but the only reason I’m regarded so highly is because I risked my life on countless occasions to save Equestria and the Crystal Empire, constantly choosing the pony lifestyle over my native lifestyle, and helping to establish peace between the ponies and two of their most aggressive enemies. Even now I’m only tolerated by most ponies, who see me as some kind of amusing oddity rather than an equal.”

“Spike…” Apple Bloom teared up, “You’re more important than that. You know we don’t think of you like that.”

“And I appreciate that,” Spike gave a genuine smile that disappeared quickly, “but these other ponies… They will turn on me. This Orduud business isn’t going to end well for non-ponies in Equestria. Zecora, Matilda, Cranky Doodle, Discord, the buffaloes… me. If something goes wrong, most of the ponies will turn on us, whether we’re in the Empire or the Republic.”

“I think you’re overreacting,” the filly tried to laugh.

“I can’t explain it, but I feel… something building…” Spike sighed, flexing and un-flexing his claws, “I’ve been having these dreams, and they’re not pleasant. I know bad things are going to happen soon, but the picture isn’t clear. Then there’s that legend…”

“What legend?” Apple Bloom asked, hoping to shift the topic from whatever brooding omens had her drake-friend depressed.

“This Thurdojun thing in Cinder Crisp’s journal,” Spike ran his claws through his spines, “It’s some old dragon legend about a dragon savior who unites the dragons against pony invaders.”

“That’s weird,” Apple Bloom giggled at the idea, unintentionally irritating her date, “Ponies invade? That’s ridiculous!”

“Tell that to the buffaloes,” Spike murmured, then continued before she could retort, “The weirdest part is that there’s so many variations of the legend. Sometimes the dragon is a female, sometimes it’s the Dragon Lord, sometimes they’re an orphan, sometimes they’re a foreigner, sometimes they have wings, sometimes they don’t, but here’s the weirdest part… Sometimes, in the legend, the Thurdojun unites the dragons and the non-ponies against ponies.”

“Wait, so you think that…” Apple Bloom blinked in surprise, “You think Ember is this thurdo-something?”

“She could be,” Spike shrugged, “if the prophecy is true. Or she could be trying to fulfill it, or someone else could be forcing her to fulfill it… I’m worried the legend will inspire a war, whether it’s true or not.”

“Self-fulfilling prophecy…” Apple Bloom murmured, remembering the concept from one of her classes.

“Yeah,” the dragon sighed, “Only this one results in a world war...”

“I’m sure it won’t come to that,” Apple Bloom assured him, “Nothing like that has ever happened before, and I doubt it will ever happen. The Orduud will stay peaceful, and this business with the Republic will go smoothly. You just gotta have faith.”

“You’re probably right,” Spike nodded, slowly, “Ember doesn’t strike me as the world-conquering type. I’ve learned from misjudging my friends once already; I don’t want to repeat that awkward lesson.”

Apple Bloom eyed him for several moments which made the dragon shift in discomfort before she snapped out of it.

“Sorry about that,” she blushed, “I was just thinking about how much you’ve grown…”

“Not that these innuendos aren’t flattering,” the dragon chuckled, “but they’re getting a little old.”

“Not like that!” the filly scoffed, blush deepening, “I meant… you’re a lot more mature now, too.”

“Or maybe this is the first time you’re noticing,” Spike suggested, though he was joking, smirking smugly, just like the little drake she remembered of old.

“Or maybe it’s just a fluke,” she snorted, sharing in his joviality as they walked back to the castle, their laughter fading into the darkening sky.


…


Luna looked at Big Mac from across the table, eyebrow raised in challenge, a playful smirk on her face. The stallion for his part looked for all the world like a colt caught with his hoof in the cookie jar. It took supreme effort on the alicorn not to burst into laughter or blush. With a personal, midnight game of Ogres and Oubliettes with cider, she should have expected more than a few slips of the tongue.

“Are you quite sure you wish to… seduce the alicorn princess, ‘Sir McBiggen’?” she asked, coyly.

“…Only if she wants to, I suppose…” Big Mac drawled out, slowly, looking her steadily in the eyes.

Luna nodded in approval. She could appreciate a stallion who didn’t back away, fearful of his own decisions. She felt an unintended shudder down her back that made her wings ‘pomf!’ for a brief instant. This time she couldn’t contain a blush.

“Er…” she murmured, “Do a charisma roll.”

Big Mac rolled the die, noticing a brief flash of dark blue magic ensure the tiny object landed with the number ‘20’ facing upwards. His eyes flashed over to the alicorn and he flinched back when he realized she had moved beside him.

“Would you look at that,” she said, quietly, eyeing him with a hunger in her eyes, “a natural crit.”

“Ee-eeyup…” the stallion gulped as she moved in, tantalizingly slow.

As if by design, the door to her study swung inwards and slammed into the wall, startling the two ponies apart. Celestia strode in, a smirk on her face. For an instant it was one of sisterly amusement, but it quickly shifted to something more condescending.

“Sister…” Luna sighed, feeling the warmth of cider’s liquid courage flee her blood. Naturally her elder sibling would barge in when Luna was finally taking her advice…

“Am I interrupting anything?” Celestia asked, smugly, as she levitated an empty mug to her muzzle and inhaled, cringing at the smell, “Is this how the leadership of the Lunar Republic behaves?”

“I am not the leader of the Republic,” Luna explained, embarrassed, “and please do not call it by that name.”

“I see,” the Empress of the Day sneered, “First you deny your imperial title, and now you deny your republican one. You shirk your responsibilities, young one.”

Before Luna could retort, Big Mac spoke up.

“Hold on here,” he drawled, “Luna rejected leadership of the Republic because she trusts ponies to lead themselves, and she rejected that Empress title because it’s a symbol of tyranny!”

The alicorns were equally stunned, and Big Mac too once he realized what he had said. Celestia recovered first, her eyes glittering darkly.

“Watch your tongue, serf,” she said slowly, “I am a goddess compared to the likes of you…”

“Sister!” Luna did a double-take, “You have never spoken like this before! I do not recall a day that has passed where you have not rejected claims of divinity, and now…”

“Alicorns are divine beings, Lulu,” Celestia replied matter-of-factly, an edge of disdain to her voice, “You’ve put things into motion with your silly political games, forcing many ponies to reevaluate and rethink the course of our history, to rethink all that we have ever known. I am no different. I’ve come to accept that alicorns are a breed apart from the regular ponies we rule over. We are immortal, powerful creatures who reign over nature itself! If that snake Discord can claim godhood, why can’t we?”

“Sister, what has happened to you?” Luna narrowed her eyes in suspicion, seeing something almost familiar lurking beneath the surface of the other alicorn’s psyche, but it was buried deep, festering.

“Enlightenment,” the older alicorn gave an ugly, feral smile, “I will leave you two foals to your games. Unlike some alicorn rulers, I have a nation to lead.”

Celestia departed, leaving a petrified Big Mac and concerned Luna behind. Luna immediately recovered once the Empress of the Day disappeared, turning to face her would-be lover.

“I’m afraid I must cut this rendezvous short, my love,” she said, quickly.

“…’My love’?” Big Mac repeated, eyes lightening up with returned affection even as the rest of him tried to recover from the shock Celestia had put him through.

“No time for that, now, Big Macintosh,” Luna sighed, displeased with the overall situation, “I must convene with my fellow leaders – alicorn and regular pony alike. I fear Equestria, perhaps the entire world, is in grave danger…”

“Figures,” Big Mac sighed, returning to his usual, quiet stoicism, “If it ain’t the end of the world dragging my family and friends away, it’s the end of the world dragging my filly-friend away.”

“Filly-friend?” Luna smirked, “It seems so… dainty. I rather like the irony of it,” she grew somber once more, “Unfortunately there is no time for that. Find your sister and her friends; keep them safe. The castle may not be the safest place for them in the next few days.”

“You don’t think Celestia is a threat, do you?” the stallion asked, narrowing his eyes. He burst into deep chuckles for a moment, “That’d be ridiculous. Celestia is… well, she’s Celestia! She can’t be turned evil, or whatever.”

“If not for my past as Nightmare Moon, would you believe I could have turned?” Luna asked, silencing his laughter, “I fear some foul influence has taken hold of my sister, though I cannot fathom how… I must convene with my peers in this matter.”

Big Mac nodded and the two departed, Luna rushing for her most private sanctum, hidden deep within her wing of the castle, locked away where even Celestia had never tread. In her youth, she had gone there only for privacy, but now she used it for protection she prayed she didn’t need. If Celestia was tainted by some force, then Luna felt she was not safe. If it were the entity she feared it was, then matters were even more dire, for the entity was tied to Luna in a fashion and would detect her efforts if nearby.

But surely it could not be that demon.

Soon Luna was in the realm of dreams, hoping she could find the leaders she needed. Her dream walking was a great boon for long-range communication, but it only worked if the recipients were in deep sleep. It was late, but she knew that mattered little to many ponies. Twilight could have stayed up all night studying; Cadence could be up for days attending to Flurry Heart. And Starlight? Luna had begun to wonder if she were still a teenager with how upturned that mare’s sleep schedule had become.

Fortunately, though, Princess Cadence and Starlight were both dreaming. Luna summoned Cadence easily enough, rescuing her from a mundane dream where she was attending to no less than a dozen Flurry Hearts suffering different problems. Starlight was a little more awkward to rescue, as Luna had to pry her from the arms of a certain dragon, though thankfully that was the worst of their situation. With two of three pony leaders summoned, Luna began.

“I fear for my sister’s wellbeing,” she confessed.

“Something is wrong with Aunt Tia?!” Cadence asked, immediately worried.

“Yes,” Luna nodded, “Or at least, I suspect. She has not been herself lately.”

“I’ve noticed,” Starlight agreed, “though I’ve only met her a few times.”

“What are you two talking about?” Cadence asked.

“Celestia has become arrogant,” Luna explained, “She acts condescending, dismissive, and even hurtful lately. Worse, she has begun to let her authority as Empress of the Day get to her head all while neglecting her royal duties!”

Cadence remained silent for a time, measuring Luna with her eyes.

“Are you sure you are not over-analyzing the situation?” she asked at last.

“What?” Luna and Starlight blurted as one.

“I’ve gotten word of some of your recent behaviors as well,” Cadence’s eyes shifted towards Starlight momentarily, “through Sunburst.”

Starlight blushed as Luna gaped at her with shocked betrayal.

“The point I’m trying to make is that maybe Aunt Tia is acting like this to cope with everything that’s been happening,” Cadence suggested, evenly, “Both of you have gotten pretty worked up over the politics at play in Equestria.”

“It’s more than that!” Luna snapped, her patience fraying with fear, “She has changed in a way I cannot describe! We’ve had disagreements before, but she has never been so… cruel before. And just an hour ago I heard her claim to be a goddess!”

“That’s…” Cadence blinked, “…surprising, to say the least. Are you sure she meant it that way?”

“I do not exaggerate on such matters,” Luna sniffed, “I am convinced she is under the influence of some dark magic. Perhaps Sombra…?”

“Sombra is still contained,” Cadence grimaced, “though I confess his magic is growing. This disunity is feeding him, it appears. I believe you are simply facing a sibling spat.”

“I don’t know, Princess…” Starlight frowned, “I’ve seen their sibling spats, and they’ve never been this bad. Luna doesn’t lie about these things, and Celestia has never been so petty before. Maybe you should come down and visit?”

“Even if I am wrong, which I pray that I am,” Luna calmed her breathing, “seeing her favorite niece once more would likely do Tia a world of good.”

“I suppose I should come for a visit,” Cadence smiled, “for diplomatic purposes, naturally. After all, I must reaffirm my loyalty to the Empire while simultaneously sharing my congratulations with a newly born nation.”

“You… don’t hate us?” Starlight raised an eyebrow.

“Of course not,” Cadence seemed aghast, “I am the Princess of Love, not Hate. Besides, I find your views admirable and I wish you the best of luck making the Republic work. However, I’m not quite ready to relinquish my authority, and I can’t leave Aunt Tia’s vision for a better future. If she converted to your ideology, well… maybe. Until then, the best I can do is wish you luck.”

“I can respect that,” Starlight nodded, soberly, “Luna, was there anything else?”

The former Princess of the Night thought about that, unsure how to proceed. She had been hoping to convince the other leaders to unite and confront Celestia over her change in personality, but perhaps she was overreacting. With a sigh she shook her head. After saying their goodbyes, Luna dismissed them back to their respective dreams before returning to the waking world. She grimaced, wondering if she were the one who had changed for the worse.

She looked through the one window of her hidden sanctum at the moon, preparing to re-enter the dream world for her nightly duties. She had sensed a wave of new nightmares borne from anxiety at the uncertain future. She braced herself before entering, smirking despite the situation.

It seemed the dawn of a new age was further off than she thought.
> 19
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


19
Sunday, the 29th, October

Pharynx looked between the two Orduud members as if they had suddenly turned into manticores in frilly dresses. It was perhaps the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, and yet… No, he wasn’t going to entertain the notion. It was the last thing he thought he’d hear in their de facto capital at Griffonstone.
“You two are crazy,” the changeling king muttered, trying to shoulder past the dragon and griffon barring his path, “Hey! Let me through, or I’ll-”
“Or you’ll what?” the dragon sneered, “Fight us? You’ll fight us for standing in your way, but you’re not going to fight those stupid ponies pushing us around?”
“What’s your name again?” Pharynx narrowed his eyes, “Gurgle? Whatever. I’m not going to help you guys ruin the peace. I’ll join you if the ponies throw the first punch, but we can’t be the aggressors here.”
“My name’s Garble, you oversized bug!” the dragon snapped.
“Easy,” the griffon Pharynx remembered as Grigori said, “Pharynx, the ponies have struck first. They have the buffalo surrounded, they’ve been pushing back at Cameloo’s border for years now, and they’ve been forcing everyone else to adopt and live by their standards.”
“They’re not forcing anyone to do anything!” Pharynx snapped back, though in truth he agreed with every word of it.
“Open your eyes, man!” Grigori scoffed, “We came to you because you are the only one of the changelings who shares our views. Rumor has it you resisted changing your ways longer than any other in your swarm. You haven’t embraced the ponies’ ways, have you?”
“Of course not!” Pharynx cringed.
“Then why not join us?” Garble asked, “We’ve got warriors from every member of the Orduud ready to attack – hundreds of soldiers!”
“It’s underhanded, going behind Ember and Rutherford’s backs like this…” the changeling muttered, “and my people are neutral. Me fighting puts their peace at risk.”
“You’d be fighting as an independent agent,” Grigori offered, then tapped a claw to his beak, “Actually, if it concerns you so much, why not pretend to be a griffon? No one except us would be the wiser.”
“And you’d get a chance to fight like a real changeling,” Garble chuckled, “Maybe not with a swarm, but with a horde.”
Pharynx looked between them, mouth slightly open, face conflicted. The offer was too good to pass up, but if Thorax ever found out… Well, wait a minute. Why did he care if Thorax ever found out? Since when did he kowtow to his brother’s weakling decisions? He used to have some respect for Ember and Rutherford, but they were hacks losing hold over the Orduud. The fact hundreds of camels, yaks, dragons, and griffons were ready to betray them and perform a raid against Equestria was proof of that. Still, something inside him was hesitant and looking for an excuse.
“Even with hundreds of warriors, we can’t take on Equestria,” Pharynx pointed out, “Their Royal Guard alone is hundreds-strong! Then you’ve got those Alicorns, and the Elements of Harmony.”
“We’ve thought of that,” Garble scratched his snout, proudly, “We’re attacking at night, when Princess Sun-butt is asleep and her sister’s in the dream world.”
“They are also divided,” Grigori explained, “A small portion of cities broke away to form something called a republic, and there’s a lot of unrest and rebuilding going on as a result. The ponies are weak now. The camels are striking back at Saddle Arabia, while we’ll send the bulk of our forces to Canterlot. Small raiding parties will attack their silly Republic while the rest are busy trying to repel our assault on their capital.”
“Those ponies are going down!” Garble cackled, “With their most powerful princesses captured, the Elements will have to do whatever we tell them to!”
“Hey, this could actually work!” Pharynx’s eyes widened, “Divide and conquer. That’s a classic changeling strategy, though usually we’d be a little more creative and include some espionage, infiltration, and sabotage beforehand…”
“Alas, we wouldn’t fit in within Equestria,” Grigori chuckled.
“And real warriors fight!” Garble slammed a fist against his chest, “They don’t skulk around in shadows.”
“Alright, I’ll join you,” Pharynx agreed, ignoring Garble, “When are we striking?”
Grigori grinned, knowing the changeling wouldn’t have taken much convincing.
“Two nights from now,” he growled out.

…

Starlight tapped her hooves nervously against her desk in the manor. Her manor.
She still wasn’t used to that.
“What does a president actually do?” Starlight asked Chancellor Mare earlier that morning when they arrived.
“You serve as the Head of State,” the older mare explained, “Your job is to engage in state functions, and deal with foreign relations. My job is to serve as the executive. I oversee the Senate and enforce their decisions.”
“I thought president meant I preside over those kinds of meetings?” Starlight asked.
“Traditionally, but an office doesn’t have to match its title,” Chancellor Mare shrugged, “The Empresses rarely behaved according to their title.”
Sitting in her Presidential Manor, twiddling her hooves several hours later while the important decisions were handled by politicians arriving in from the city-states, Starlight was beginning to wonder if she actually served a purpose. She was the face of their new nation, and her office dictated she governed affairs of international policy. On paper she also had some emergency powers that could make the Senate and the Chancellor irrelevant, but she wasn’t about to exploit that system. The decision to make her the dealer with other leaders and former-Mayor Mare the nitty-gritty leader had been a brilliant one. As a disciple of the Princess of Friendship (and, if she were being honest, a student of Ambassador Spike), Starlight had learned a great deal about diplomacy, while Chancellor Mare had years of experience in actual governance.
But that didn’t make waiting for work any less boring.
“Good day, Madame President!” Flim invited himself into her officer, jovial as ever, “Need a break?”
“Quite the opposite, actually,” the mare groaned, “I thought there was all sorts of paperwork involved with this job?”
“I imagine there will be once the ball is truly off and rolling,” the taller unicorn said, “Apparently the Lunar Republic has been orchestrating this for weeks. They already had senators elected, and a rudimentary government created. They even had a fancy supporter in Canterlot willing to donate their house! All they needed was to legalize it with a vote and start moving ponies, but naturally the republican city-state representatives that have been here for weeks were the ones they chose to be senators.”
“It’s just happening so fast,” Starlight sighed, “and now I’m sitting in a palace, leading a new nation! Less than a month ago I was just arriving in Canterlot, wanting to study politics… Crazy, right?”
“Didn’t Applejack and the others go on crazy adventures weekly, or something?” Flim arched an eyebrow.
“Try biweekly,” Starlight snorted, “I think they had 100 adventures in only a year? I guess it’s not too crazy for this to happen in so short a time, but still… Something doesn’t feel right. It’s almost like some external force has been manipulating events for it all to happen so quickly, so perfectly.”
The two unicorns stared at each other before bursting into a fit of laughter.
“Right, external entities…” Starlight wiped a tear from her eye, “What am I thinking?”
“Any idea which foreign power you’ll negotiate with first?” Flim asked, “I’ve got some fellas in a betting pool…”
“Well, Princess Cadence is coming down for a visit soon,” the President smirked, “and I really need to patch up this rift between the Lunar Republic and the Empire. Is it even called the Equestrian Empire, now?”
“There’s a lot of rumors about name changes,” the former-swindler explained, “I hear Celestia’s changing the Imperial Senate to the Imperial Diet, now.”
“What?” Starlight gaped, “Didn’t she just name it the Senate?”
“I guess she didn’t like us using the same name,” Flim laughed, “Or she thought diet sounded fancier.”
“…It does sound pretty cool…” Starlight scowled, “So, what do you do now? I’ve noticed you work here.”
“I’m the Minister of Finance,” he declared, proudly, “It’s just a fancy way of saying treasurer, but don’t tell the mares that.”
“Don’t you mean the mare?” Starlight smiled, coyly, “You plan on heading back to Ponyville anytime soon? Show a certain farmer how much you’ve changed?”
“I… might be planning a vacation here in a few weeks,” Flim blushed, “but right now, unfortunately, there’s a lot of work needs doing. We have no economy! Simply tragic. Actually, since we now rely on international trade, what with our being completely isolated and surrounded by the Empire, that means you and I will be working together a lot!”
“Oh joy,” Starlight feigned sarcasm, but Flim saw through it.
“On the subject of distant relations,” he said, his soberer tone catching his leader’s attention, “how are things with our scaly friend? I heard he turned down your offer to live in the manor.”
“Things are fine,” Starlight said, though it felt like a lie to her, “He didn’t want to make Apple Bloom jealous, living in my building instead of hers. Even though neither of us own the places we’re sleeping at. To be honest, I don’t understand why they’re still together. I mean, I’m the one who pushed them to be together, but all he’s done is complain about how she ignores his views, simply writing them off. What’s up with that?”
Flim shrugged, for once at a loss for words as Starlight continued her tirade.
“I thought they’d be perfect together! He’s young, she’s young, they’re both hard workers, pretty smart, loyal, orphans…” the unicorn trailed off, feeling her face heat up in frustration.
“Glim-Glam,” Flim started, then stopped at the death stare Starlight shot him, “Er… Starlight, perhaps you should just tell him how you feel…?”
“What makes you think I feel anything towards Spike?” the President rounded on him.
“Not to be impolitic,” Flim chuckled at his own little joke, “but it’s pretty obvious. The only one who hasn’t figured it out is Spike, himself. I do believe even the smallest Apple pieced it together. Then again, considering her sister, I’m not surprised she was smart enough to piece it together. After all, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, eh?”
“What if I am in love?” Starlight turned her chair around so she wouldn’t have to face the other unicorn, “Me confessing to him isn’t going to change anything.”
“Apparently you and Spike share being oblivious to romantic feelings…” Flim murmured, “I don’t doubt he’d drop Apple Bloom for you in a heartbeat.”
“Oh yeah?” Starlight peeked around from her chair, slightly, blushing, “What makes you so sure?”
“I recognize the look in his eyes when he sees you,” Flim smiled sadly, his usual quick-speaking dropping away, “It’s the same look my brother gives Celestia; the same look Big Mac gives Luna; and, dare I say, the same look I give Applejack. I don’t see that look in either his or Apple Bloom’s eyes.”
“What do you see in their eyes?” Starlight asked, more interested in dodging any commitment than actually answering.
“Guilt, reluctance, the kind of emotions that come when you’re putting on a sham for too long,” Flim grimaced, “I’ve seen those emotions in my brother’s eyes before, and he’s seen them in mine.”
“I never realized you two actually regretted any of your stunts,” the President chuckled, “Well… I’ll think about what you’ve said, but matters of the heart aren’t really what matter here and now. You were right; we’ve got work to do.”
“Our bleeding hearts can wait,” Flim chortled, bouncing back to his old self, “If you wanted to start work, I’ve drafted up trade plans.”
“Oh, please, yes!” Starlight grinned, “Anything to feel like I actually have a job!”
“That’s the spirit!” Flim levitated the documents onto her desk, “Let’s begin.”

...

“Are you sure this won’t be a problem?” Princess Cadance asked as she watched Sunburst carefully handle Flurry Heart. Her husband, Shining Armor looked close to death already, the exhaustion of raising Flurry Heart being taxing enough; the prospect of his beloved wife heading into Equestria proper, where ponies were rioting and rumors of her aunt going insane were spreading, was just icing on the cake. “I could postpone…”
“No!” Sunburst gaped, the blushed at his own audacity, “I mean, Your Majesty, if what Prince – I mean – Empress Luna says is true, then some pony needs to step in immediately! I know that if any pony has a chance of resolving an issue between family, it’s the Princess of Love.”
“You give me too much credit,” Cadance smiled all the same, “Princess Twilight would be just as suited to this task – perhaps more so. Still, you are right. I said I would go with all haste, so I shall. But… do you two really think you can handle Flurry Heart all by yourselves?”
“Absolutely, honey!” Shining Armor chuckled, managing to stand tall and look more like his old self, “The nobles are more than capable of picking up some of the extra duties for us – in fact, that’s part of Celestia’s new government, isn’t it? As for Flurry Heart, with the nobles taking some of the leadership responsibilities off our chests, Sunburst and I can spend even more time with her!”
“I’m pretty excited that I’ll be staying in the castle,” Sunburst grinned, “Usually I return home whenever I’m not needed here.”
“Just don’t spend all your time in the library,” Cadance giggled, “My husband will need all the help he can get.”
Sunburst chuckled nervously, embarrassed that – without guidance – the library probably was where he’d spend all his time. In truth, he wanted to go to Canterlot, to make sure Starlight was alright, but that wasn’t happening anytime soon. Without Cadance there, things would be difficult enough; he couldn’t leave all the responsibilities with Shining Armor alone. Besides, he rather enjoyed his duties as Royal Crystaller and looking after Flurry Heart. It was an honor to be entrusted with the stewardship of the world’s youngest alicorn.
Something of his regret must have shown on his face, for Cadance spoke up.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” she asked, “We could bring Flurry Heart. I’m sure Shining wouldn’t mind a break from the stress of fatherhood.”
She had meant it as a joke, but her coy smile fell when she saw the fear in her husband’s eyes.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, “I’d be nothing but afraid if you took our daughter to Canterlot right now! We have no idea if the riots have died down…”
“I’m sure the reports on the riots are greatly exaggerated,” the princess said, “but you’re right. It’s probably not the best place for our daughter at the moment. Still, would you like me to send for all of you if things are calm?”
“It would be nice to have a family vacation,” Shining visibly relaxed at the prospect, “We could even coordinate with Twily, get her to filly-sit her favorite niece…”
He left the suggestion of privacy unspoken, but Cadance smirked at his sultry tone. Sunburst cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with their innuendos. The couple blushed, forgetting they weren’t alone for a moment.
“Yeah, that sounds good,” Cadance chuckled, anxiously, “Don’t worry about a thing, my dashing husband; if the worst I have to fear in Canterlot is a bunch of angry ponies, then I will simply use my charm to get them to cease their violent ways.”
“Of course,” Shining snorted at the joke, but understood what she had really meant. She was an alicorn; nothing short of Chrysalis posed a serious threat to her. Well, that or another alicorn, or Discord, but as much as Shining hated to admit it, the draconequues was steadily becoming an accepted part of Equestria.
“Oh!” the Princess of Love gasped, “I hope things are well in Canterlot! We can get every pony together in time for Nightmare Night!”
“It’ll be the first time Flurry Heart’s spent Nightmare Night with everyone!” Shining beamed, “I hope she won’t be too scared.”
“She’s braver than she looks,” Sunburst commented, “She’s got a lot of her father in her.”
Shining Armor laughed in fatherly pride at the comparison. Cadance smiled at the idea of her daughter becoming some kind of soldier like her father. She felt herself shift for a moment, a vision of a far older Flurry Heart, armored and armed, standing before serried ranks of warriors, a great, scaled beast sprawled around her, obscured by smoke…
The vision was gone as soon as it had appeared, but the vividness of it stunned her. It was no mere conjuration of imagination, the vision too deeply-engrained, too specific, too perfect… It was definitely in the realm of a telepathic message, or an illusion. Or, she dreaded, a vision. Cadance was all too aware of the decaying relations with the dragons and the other non-ponies. What she had seen in her vision was definitely a great dragon, but the image had shifted too quickly. Was Flurry Heart standing before a slain foe? Was she about to be attacked from behind? Was it purely symbolic – a metaphor for an unending war with a great host, a war that future generations will be forced to carry?
Cadance shook these thoughts from her head, not wanting to burden the stallions with her. They would not have the answers she needed anyway.
“I’ll go pack, then,” she said, instead, leaving the room at a brisk trot.
The further she got away from the room, the further she got in denying that brief vision. It was so very brief; it could have been anything. It might have actually been her imagination. Who could say?

…

“Um, Tia…?” Flam asked.
The Alicorn Empress reclined upon a large couch, her Day Guard fanning her with palm leaves and feeding her grapes. She wore a fine robe of fiery red silk, lined with fur, and enough gold jewelry to make her gold-plated guards seem underdressed. For some reason, she had taken to increasingly ostentatious decorations, all while deferring more and more of her duties to toadying nobles who even Flam found unscrupulous. At first he hadn’t minded, what with her doting over him, inviting him along for the pampering, and dressing him in fine clothes and jewelry himself – all, she claimed, as reward for his good work in the Finances Bureau, though he hadn’t even done any work there.
The initial joy of his spoiling soon wore off once he realized she was treating him as another object in her collection. There was affection, but it was shallow and critical. She only seemed to notice him when he spoke out of turn, then she’d coo at him once he returned to doing what she wanted only to ignore him. He was like a doll to her: dressed up, expected to do and say what she desired, then ignored until he fell out of place or the fancy struck her to play with him again.
He would be insulted and infuriated if he weren’t so heartbroken.
“Tia,” he repeated, more firmly.
The Empress of the Day opened an eye, to lazily stare at Flam. The unicorn flinched back, paling at the orb. It was a sharp, burning orange-yellow thing with a black slit, like a snake’s, resting in sockets of red so dark it was almost black. There was nothing but malice and cruel amusement in that eye. She blinked, and when her eye opened again, it was back to normal. Purple, bright, yet… somehow less than it used to be. It was like the difference between a photograph and the real thing.
“Does something trouble you, my dear?” she purred out, not bothering to shift herself to get a better look at him, “Why don’t you come over here and cuddle? I could use a warm pillow right about now.”
“I was hoping we could actually go out and do something,” Flam tapped his hooves together, blushing, “Perhaps we could see a movie again?”
“So you can spill a soda on my lap again?” Celestia gave a bark of a laugh, “Pass. Besides, I hate movie theaters. They’re gross, sticky places filled with rabble. Not like a real theater.”
“O-okay,” the unicorn gulped, “Why not go to the real theater, then? We could see a… a romantic play?”
“Hm…” the Empress pursed her lips at the idea, “I do so love the theater… Very well. Servants, ready my carriage.”
Flam sighed, partly out of relief as Celestia brought herself to her full height and towered over the others. She hadn’t left the castle in several days, and aside from raising the sun, the unicorn wasn’t sure if she had done anything other than abuse her station for pampering. Perhaps seeing the outside would help rekindle her passion for her subjects…
“Actually, I have a far greater idea!” the Empress grinned, “Why don’t we play a game?”
“What kind of game?” Flam asked.
“A game of truths,” Celestia stared into Flam’s eyes with burning intensity, “I ask you a question and you tell me the truth. Then you ask me, and I’ll tell you the truth.”
“I suppose that sounds fun,” the stallion cleared his throat, “Would you like to go first, my dear?”
“Oh, that wouldn’t be fair,” she purred, “I recommended it; at the very least, you should get first crack.”
“Alright…” he tapped his chin, “I can ask any question?”
“Yes,” Celestia smirked, “my turn.”
Flam tsked, seeing the trap he’d fallen into.
“Do you love me, Flam?” the alicorn asked, batting her eyelashes.
“Yes,” the unicorn responded, instantly, mouth dry. Seeing she was waiting for him, he thought of another question. “Are we… dating?”
“Oh Flam, I’m offended you have to ask,” Celestia giggled, “Have you ever thought of joining the Republic? At all, I mean.”
“The thought has crossed my mind,” Flam frowned, “but only if you, yourself joined. I’d never betray you.”
The Empress had a flash of something in her eye just then. It was a softening of a sort, the genuineness of his words stirring something in her that he hadn’t seen for several days, but it was gone almost instantly. Still, she smiled, though it was almost predatory.
“What kind of pony were you before you ascended?” Flam asked.
“A unicorn, naturally,” Celestia snorted as if it were a stupid question, “This one is a hypothetical… If the Lunar Republic turned against us, and I were forced to, say… take care of its leaders – your brother included – would you still remain loyal to me?”
“I… I don’t understand…” the unicorn’s ears drooped in sickened anxiety.
“Yes you do,” the alicorn sing-songed, “It’s a simple yes or no question, Flammy-kins. Would you stay loyal to me, even if I had to arrest, or banish, or… remove your brother?”
Flam avoided looking into her eyes, the cold calculation of which was quite at odds with her jovial smirk. Slowly, he features dropped. Her smile faded into a scowl as he avoided answering, her bearing growing darker and more intense, her eyes glaring into his soul. Finally, she growled.
“Well?!” she demanded, “Your brother, or me?!”
“You, my dearest!” Flam whimpered, falling to his knees and pressing his horn to the ground before her feet, “I would choose you, over all others!”
Celestia stared at him, her gaze withering in its intensity. Slowly, however, her calmer demeanor returned and she smiled again.
“Come, Flam,” she sighed, “Let’s enjoy a play before the sun must set. Then we may retire to my chambers.”
Flam only nodded, suppressing the tears in his eyes and the shiver in his limbs. His heart was breaking, unable to comprehend what had happened to the mare he had fallen in love with. All of her pretty words and baubles she tossed at him seemed worthless in the face of her increasingly hostile and callous attitude towards him. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel it was he who was failing in some way. Was he not good enough for her? Was he doing something wrong?
Something inside his heart, desperate for reciprocation, unwound. His desire for his lady’s love became feverish, his mind and vision unclear without his brother to help steady and support him. He was adrift, unsure of what to do, so he submitted to the authority of the only pony around he loved.
Ahead of him, leading the way, Celestia’s eyes shifted back to the miniature suns within black sockets, a cruel grin on her face as she enjoyed the suffering sycophancy she had fostered within her loyal stallion. Flam made a handsome bauble, and his loyalty should be rewarded, but she hungered for more. So much more…
She would not stop until all was hers, as was her right.

…

Luna watched the sun set and allowed her own magic to guide the moon into position. She felt anxiety deep inside her, and not for any of the obvious reasons. The first official day of the Lunar Republic was coming to a close and already the fires of division were dying down. The Empire’s supporters were cooling their heads, begrudgingly accepting that five city-states had left them. The hate was still there, the desire to fight – but there was no more active violence, fortunately. Something else was eating away at her famous calm.
Was it her sister’s increasingly reprehensible attitude? Or maybe it was the fact Starlight still seemed unprepared for the responsibility Luna had hoisted upon her? Or… perhaps she was feeling anxious about her budding romance with Big Mac while her country fell apart? She had told him and Apple Bloom to stay hidden, and as such she hadn’t tried too hard to dig him out despite the overwhelming urge to do so.
Luna shuddered at the creeping sensation emanating from the castle. She was certain her personal demon was somewhere within, and had more than a sneaking suspicion that it was trying to corrupt Celestia, even if Cadence said otherwise. Yet, even that horrifying possibility wasn’t what made her blood run cold this night. There was something charged in the night air – the prospect of great violence and tragedy – but she couldn’t place its source.
She readied her portal into the dream realm, staring into the void of midnight that would take her far away. Before she entered, she spared one final glance towards the castle. There was a sensation from that direction, like a cold, foul wind.
With a final breath, she plunged into the world of dreams.

…

THURDOJUN…
Spike’s eyes snapped open. He gasped for breath, his blood on fire. Looking down at his sides, he saw the bedding and mattress torn through by his claws, which had clenched for purchase during his nightmare. He grimaced, his years of housework training filling him with disappointment at the sight. Unlike most of the other guests, Spike had denied the servants work in cleaning his room. He did his own sheets, and all the cleaning. He knew the castle intimately, and had friends in the servants’ quarters who had been his mentors growing up. From them he had developed a sense to do things himself, rather than trust others. It wasn’t a lack of trust in ability, but rather that he had developed a method of order that was distinct, like a signature. The room would be just as clean if he left it to the servants, but it wouldn’t be his clean.
The only other guest who didn’t leave things to the servants was Apple Bloom, her years of farm work having instilled in her a desire to take care of herself rather than be pampered. Well, admittedly she did take days off on occasion, but those were few and far between. Spike appreciated that about her. Thinking about Apple Bloom distracted him from his torn bedding, and got him contemplating his relationship. Despite their disagreements, he felt himself increasingly attached to the farm-filly. If anything, their disagreements only ensnared him more. It hadn’t been long, but he felt himself slowly getting over his attraction to Starlight, comfortable with the idea of remaining friends. With Apple Bloom by his side, he could…
-rule over all.
The dragon shook his head clear of the thought, his pupils narrowing into slits for an instant as an overwhelming sense of greed flooded him. It had been so in his dream. A vision through his own eyes, towering over thousands of dispossessed, a great horde of every sentient creature in the realm, ponies and non-ponies alike, accompanied by the beasts of nature. They marched on Canterlot, but it was unlike the city he had grown up in. The mountains had been fortified, the landscape ravaged… An alicorn appeared in the sky before him, features unreadable with the sun haloing her from behind. There had been a great sense of expectation, like an undelivered blow, and Spike had eagerly leaned into his mind’s eye, desperate to see what would happen next…
…but it ended.
Remembering it now, Spike was stunned by how vivid it had been, and with the booming word that echoed through his skull, the word that had woken him up. Thurdojun. He had been reading about it in Cinder Crisp’s journal, but nothing like in his dream had been described. Ponies fighting alongside the non-ponies? The alicorn was most likely Celestia – she was haloed by the sun, wasn’t she? The idea that he’d face off against the closest thing to a grandmother he had made him nauseous. Worse, the fact he had dreamed of himself as the Thurdojun was unnerving.
He started laughing at the idea, though. Himself as a giant, leading a horde of warriors against the city of his birth… Himself as a prophesied dragon hero, when the days he had spent in the Dragon Lands could be counted on his fingers. It was a joke, a simple dream resulting from his stress and the fact he’d been reading too many legends. He’d had similar dreams when he was younger, where he was a charming savior for Rarity, or a superhero defeating foes.
Chuckling and drying his eyes, the dragon made himself comfortable on his bed, grimacing as he noticed how he had grown yet again, his body shifting in structure. If this kept happening, he’d need a larger bed, and he’d already been upgraded once… He curled up, faintly wondering how much longer was left until his growth spurts stopped. He knew this wasn’t natural for dragons, at least not without an increase in their hoard; he had no hoard to speak of, so it was an utter mystery.
His thoughts drifted to Ember since he had been thinking of the Thurdojun. Was she convinced she trying to fulfill the prophecy? Was someone else pulling the strings? Either way, he hoped his friends in the Orduud weren’t making a mistake. He understood the inequality, but he wouldn’t support them if they made things violent.

He fervently hoped things would work out as he fell to sleep once more.


…


Thorax watched the moon reach its apex, tired but unable to sleep. He could sense something dark was in the works. He had become sensitive to such things after ascending as to a changeling king. It was like a sixth sense, like how the changelings used to be able to detect love to feed off of, he could now sense evil to ward off. Or rather to have Pharynx ward off.

Thorax sighed, thinking about his brother. Thinking about him also got him thinking about Ember, and he contemplated writing her a letter. His purple eyes drifted towards a writing desk overflowing with half-written love poems, a trashcan filled with crumpled failures next to it. He blushed; it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to send her a letter. He might let something slip.

Perhaps a gift, then? He was quite skilled with crafts. Maybe a friendship bracelet? Did she like those things? Of course she did. She had once told him she liked anything from him, and he could have sworn she blushed a little when saying it. Probably his overactive imagination, or-

Thorax spun, suddenly, responding to the sudden sensation of someone entering his room. He blinked in shock at Ember standing there. The shock instantly turned to longing, to love, but he felt steadily weaker until he cut the connection. Ember staggered, her form shifting for a moment before the illusion fell and a changeling he hadn’t expected to see again stood in Ember’s place.

“Chrysalis?” Thorax blinked, astounded at her sudden appearance, “W-what are you doing- why were you pretending to be Ember?!”

“Does that bother you?” the former Changeling Queen chuckled, weakly, regaining her regal poise with difficulty, “I didn’t enjoy feeding on that kind of affection from one of my brood, either.”

“In my defense, you- wait, I don’t need to explain myself to you!” Thorax ground out, blushing at the situation, “Why are you here? Why were you disguised as Dragon Lord Ember?”

“Oh, it’s Dragon Lord Ember, now?” Chrysalis chuckled as she walked past her successor and looked over the letters piled up. It was obvious she had already looked through them, which only disturbed the king more. She seemed equally amused and disgusted with them. “It was obvious she is the strongest source of love for you.”

Thorax stayed silent, not quite willing to admit that to himself, let alone his former queen.

“I’m starving,” Chrysalis confessed after a moment, “I’ve been living without any love to sustain me for nearly a year since you cast me out. My schemes to return have all been foiled. I’m running out of options.”

“Then come back to us,” Thorax smiled, placing a tender hoof on her shoulder. She wrapped her own around it, briefly drinking in a different kind of love he willingly gave her. The shock of it all made her gasp, but she hardened herself again and stepped away. “You are the mother to us all! You learn our ways, rejoin us. You can make the hive whole again.”

“This isn’t the hive,” Chrysalis muttered, looking around at the bright colors and craftsmanship. Everything was gaudy, pastel, and loathsomely soft. “I would not fit in here.”

“You could learn to-”

“I shouldn’t have to learn to!” the queen snapped back, “Why must we change everything of ourselves, child? You’ve made everything soft and weak…”

“Not everything,” Thorax smiled, disarmingly, “Pharynx is still pretty aggressive, and a few of the changelings have taken to standing up for themselves and being a mix of the old and new. I’ve accepted that not every changeling is comfortable with our new ways, and that’s fine.”

“Pharynx, huh?” Chrysalis mumbled, “I didn’t see him around.”

“He’s a king like me,” Thorax explained, “Not that rank matters, of course. He’s serving as a diplomat to the Orduud while I’m a diplomat to Equestria.”

“The Orduud?” the Changeling Queen asked, reading through his love letters and chuckling now and then.

“A body of non-ponies that are… having a disagreement with the ponies, at the moment,” the Changeling King laughed, anxiously, trying to ignore her going through his private letters. Something in what he said caught her attention.

“Wait, are you saying the non-ponies are united?” she asked, “And at war with the ponies?!”

“What?!” Thorax seemed horrified, “No! I mean, they’re united, but certainly not at war!”

“Interesting…” Chrysalis returned to sorting through poems, but her mind wasn’t on reading them anymore, “In my infiltration of various races, I learned a great deal about many of their legends and prophecies. Most of the non-pony cultures have legends of a final conflict with ponies.”

“A… final conflict?” Thorax asked, feeling his heart sink.

“Oh yes,” Chrysalis nodded, her cobweb hair bobbing with the gesture, “The dragons have a really interesting series of them, something about a messianic figure leading them. The yaks speak of a unifying ruler who will lead them to ruling the world; the griffons speak of a return to their glory; the camels of their desert lands rising to prominence once more… There are countless legends, but they all have common themes, and some of them in each culture suggested those races would unite to make their dreams a reality,” she spared a coy look at her successor, “Just some food for thought.”

“I trust Ember and my brother not to let that happen,” Thorax replied, evenly, “She might have a temper, but she is wiser beyond her years.”

“Knowing how dragons age, it is quite possible she’s more than twice yours,” Chrysalis snorted, “I don’t understand what you see in her, though. I never expected you would be attracted to a dragon, much less one with that kind of temperament…”

“Wait, are you…” Thorax failed to suppress a smirk, “…are you disapproving who I’m in love with?”

“Of course,” Chrysalis looked at the king, confusion on her face, “Why is that amusing to you?”

“It just seems like something a mother would do,” Thorax said, his smirk replaced by a wistful smile, “I’ve always wished you’d be more like that.”

Chrysalis stared flatly at what she reluctantly admitted was her son before looking back at the poems.

“You asked why I came here?” the queen stated, “I’ve run out of options. I’m going to do something that even I find repulsive, and… I suppose I wanted somebody to know in case I failed in the attempt. I don’t want to be forgotten in that failure… No one has seen me in quite some time, my schemes all orchestrated from shadows, their designer unknown. If I fail in this new endeavor, no one shall know that I’ve even been alive this whole time. I need someone to know I’m still around…”

“Please, just come back to us,” Thorax pleaded, not liking her tone at all, “You don’t have to accept our ways! We can sustain you. I know in my heart that there is a love for you in the hearts of all changelings. I don’t know what you’re planning, but please… I don’t want you to disappear.”

“You’ve gone soft, Thorax,” Chrysalis scowled, then her expression softened, “but I already knew that… I appreciate your concern, but it is likely misplaced. I am a survivor; I will endure and return. I just… wanted to tell you as insurance, in case something goes awry.”

Thorax frowned, but accepted her rejection as he had accepted her rule – reluctantly. He respected her, even now, even after all she had done. He wanted her to stay, but he wanted a lot of things out of others that he knew they couldn’t deliver. His faith in others was unwavering, but his expectations were often too high. He knew Chrysalis could redeem herself, in time, but he also recognized that she needed to do it at her own pace. Still, the prospect of her endangering herself on some vendetta scheme which threatened his friends… He wasn’t sure if he was more frightened of her success or her failure.

“Be at ease, Thorax,” the former queen chuckled, dryly, tiredly, “I can practically feel your anxiety from here. If my plan goes as it should, then no one will be harmed. You know harm was never our intent.”

“Enslaving others to use as a food source isn’t the way,” the king tried a final time, “You’ve seen how successful we’ve been with our way of life. Is it really so awful to you?”

“It’s insulting,” Chrysalis sneered, “It’s beneath us! We should be ruling the world, not making paper crafts! You were warriors and conquerors! Now you do nothing!”

“But our bellies are full, and we know happiness beyond measure,” Thorax argued, the sad smile returning to his face, “What more could you want? There’s no hunger or want, we are at peace, and we are free. Isn’t that a life worth living?”

“Are you really satisfied with so little?” Chrysalis asked in disbelief, “Do you not want the whole world? It is ours by right.”
“What right?” Thorax snorted.

“The right of conquest!” the queen growled out. Thorax only looked at her in pity, concerned about what starving had done to her. Without love to sustain her, she was running off of her hate and desire for revenge, her ambition and envy. It left her even sicklier than normal, which was hard to imagine. “There is no other right. Only through shows of force, only through aggression, can one be sure of their rights and property.”

“Even with Celestia and the Elements beating you at every turn, you still deny the reality?” Thorax sighed, “Before life adapted to compete, it adapted to work together. Even on the smallest scale, life works together in order to survive, yet all you choose to see are the predators and parasites. You refuse to acknowledge symbiosis, herds, flocks, schools, societies… You’re even ignoring the nature of our hive. We work together for the benefit of each other. We do not have to be parasites.”

“Is that how you think of me?” Chrysalis hissed, “As a parasite?!”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that-”

“Enough of this prattling!” the queen seethed, “I’ve wasted too much time on you! And not just here and now… Every ounce of effort I put into your upbringing was a waste, it seems. I’ve wasted years on you, you traitor! You’ve turned your back on our way of life, and corrupted everyone else’s views. You’ve turned them against me!”

“You did that on your own,” Thorax bit back bitter tears, “You never loved us. You taught us to hate and exploit each other… What kind of way is that to raise your children?”

“Children…” Chrysalis grimaced, “You act as if we’re like other races that breed in family units.”

Thorax stayed silent, but he suspected they could breed as other races did, with partners. He felt their change had remade them, breaking their reliance on hives and matriarchy. There wasn’t really a way to prove it until a changeling experimented and proved the idea, but they were still adjusting to their new ways and none of them seemed interested in partners outside of Thorax. For all he knew, he was different.

“Farewell, Thorax,” Chrysalis said, coldly, as she leapt out his window, wings flitting, “Despite your insolence, I cannot deny your leadership skills… When I return, triumphant, I will not punish you… much.”

With that she departed into the night sky, leaving the Changeling King behind. Thorax watched her depart, filling sadness fill him. He missed her. He missed Pharynx. He missed Ember. He missed Spike. He missed his friends in the Crystal Empire, and in Equestria. He longed for the days when he could safely journey to the other lands and spend time with his friends. He longed for a day when Chrysalis would embrace what he had learned, when she would rejoin the hive and they could be a happy, united family. He wanted so much…

He sighed, heavily. Maybe he was asking too much.
> 20
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


20



Monday, the 30th, of October


“I’m sorry,” Fluttershy held onto a fragile smile, “she’s been staying with you… how long?”

“Only a few days,” Discord said, “I lose track in my own world, you know.”

The pegasus’ eyes flitted to the griffon she had never reconciled with, then back at her… best friend. The idea that Discord would have any female over at his place without telling her grated on her nerves, despite the fact neither of them would outright confess they were a couple. The fact said female had stayed several nights in his home while he was away from Fluttershy’s side made her anxious. Picking up on that, Discord smirked but his eyes betrayed some offense.

“Fluttershy, you’re not jealous, are you?” he chuckled, “You should know I’d never replace you.”

“I’m sorry, I know that,” the pegasus relaxed a little, “It’s just Gilda and I didn’t get off to a good start, and the idea of you and her being alone for so many days… I was worried when you didn’t immediately return from your visit to the Orduud.”

“Ah, yes,” the draconequues sighed, “I wanted to return immediately, but considering things were going haywire in Equestria, I decided to lie low. Ponies seem to be lashing out more at non-ponies with the Republic becoming official, so I felt it best to keep her out of that mess. At least at first.”

“Hey,” Gilda spoke up, face set in irritation, “I’m right here, so if you could avoid talking about me like I’m not, that’d be great.”

“Oh, sorry,” Fluttershy blushed in embarrassment. She knew what it felt like to be ignored. “I’m just a little peeved at all of this happening behind my back.”

“I appreciate you trying to protect me, Discord,” the griffon said, “but I really don’t need it. I just wanted to come to Equestria for a little bit, see Rainbow Dash, and try to enjoy being around creatures that aren’t paranoid and hateful.”

“Well, Rainbow Dash should be free today,” Fluttershy nodded, “Actually, would you mind if I come, too? I haven’t been on the best terms with her, either.”

“Really?” Gilda raised an eyebrow, “I thought you two were, like, besties or something?”

“The situation in Equestria has become rather polarized,” Discord explained, “Politics, you understand? Dear Fluttershy supports the Lunar Republic, while Rainbow Brash doesn’t.”

“Ugh, even here I have to deal with politics?” the griffon seemed disgusted, “Wait, Rainbow Dash doesn’t like the Republic? Aren’t they, like… into freedom and stuff?”

“Oh yes!” the pegasus smiled, but it disappeared almost immediately, “Rainbow Dash prefers being loyal to Celestia, though. She has a very strong sense of obligation to the Wonderbolts and to Celestia, and she thinks the Republic and the desire for freedoms are somehow acts of betrayal.”

“Great,” Gilda sighed, “Now I get the feeling she’ll think talking to me will be an act of treason, too!”

“I doubt that,” Fluttershy said, “You’re an old friend. Maybe seeing you will be good for her?”

“Yeah,” Gilda shrugged, “maybe. If you two wanna come along, I’m not gonna stop you.”

With that, the griffon left with her acquaintances in tow. The flight to Rainbow Dash’s house was largely uneventful other than Discord’s chatter, but Gilda had grown used to that after spending several days with him. She still didn’t understand how he and Fluttershy were best friends – and it was impossible to conceive how they might be something more. They were simply too different, but she wasn’t about to ask them to quit hanging out. She had been raised on horror stories of the reign of the Lord of Chaos, and it was obvious that his dedication to Fluttershy had transformed him; Gilda had no desire to reawaken what he had been simply because she didn’t understand their relationship.

Rainbow Dash opened her door as soon as they landed, seeing their approach from inside. She seemed happy, but also guarded.

“Gilda?” the cyan pegasus asked, “I thought you’d be with the Orduud?”

“I needed some space from those chumps,” the griffon explained, rubbing the knuckles of her talons against her plumage in feigned disinterest, “They’ve turned into real jerks. Except Rutherford and that Ember chick – they’re pretty decent.”

“Why are you in Ponyville?” Rainbow Dash cocked her head to the side, confused, then beamed at a realization, “Wait! Did you come all the way here just to see me?”

“Don’t get your feathers in a bunch,” Gilda looked over her shoulder, blushing in embarrassment, “But… yeah. I guess I did come here just to see you.”

“Ah yeah!” Rainbow reared, cackling, “I knew it! You’re turning into a softy.”

“Watch it…” Gilda smirked.

“Sorry!” Rainbow pranced in place, “I don’t listen to marshmallows.”

“That’s it!” Gilda playfully charged the pegasus and the two zoomed out of the house and into the sky, racing in increasingly-difficult maneuvers while laughing. Fluttershy and Discord only watched.

“I’ll never understand all these different shades of friendship,” the draconequues confessed.

“Don’t worry,” Fluttershy flashed a modest smile, “No one can ever understand everything about friendship.”

“Don’t let Twilight hear you say that,” Discord chortled.

Finally, the two speedsters landed, hardly tired, on Rainbow’s porch with the others, laughing. Their mirth put Fluttershy and Discord in good spirits, though the mischievous Lord of Chaos was usually in good spirits, especially with Fluttershy by his side. The cyan pegasus invited them into her home while she prepared drinks. Discord muttered something under his breath about how Fluttershy was a better hostess, but a nudge to the ribs from the yellow pegasus silenced his criticism.

“So, besides getting roped into that group,” the pegasus poured her friends each a glass of carbonated cider, “what have you been up to?”

Gilda took a second to answer, not sure if she wanted to bother explaining why she had originally, willingly supported the Orduud or if that would simply lead to more problems. Deciding it wasn’t worth it, she decided to answer the question.

“I’ve mostly been busy rebuilding the griffons’ society in small parts,” she explained, “Traveling around, teaching my fellow griffons to be less arrogant and brash, and be more helpful and kind. Met a really friendly one named Gabby. Jeeze, was she friendly…” the griffon’s tone suggested ‘annoying’ would have been a more apt description.

“How’d you end up in the Orduud, anyway?” Rainbow asked, “Did they force you?”

“What?” Gilda seemed offended, then calmed herself, “Look, until recently the Orduud has been a really good group. I mean, that’s not saying much since it’s only been like… two weeks? But it got a whole bunch of races to talk and intermingle and buddy up. The original vision held by the Triumvirate was that ponies would eventually join, too, but somehow leaders like that pompous jerk Grigori are convincing others we need war with the ponies.”

“How can a group that wants war with ponies be good?!” Rainbow gaped.

“Did you seriously ignore everything else I said?” Gilda scowled.

“She has selective hearing when it comes to politics,” Fluttershy couldn’t help the remark and Discord stifled a guffaw.

“Don’t you start, secessionist!” the cyan pegasus snapped, then struggled to calm herself, “Sorry, I just… So, they were good, but now they’re not, and that’s why you left?”

“Sorta,” Gilda shrugged, “I mean, they aren’t what I’d call bad yet, but more and more of the griffons, yaks, and dragons are listening to leaders like Grigori and Garble, and less to the Triumvirate.”

“Who is the Triumvirate?” Fluttershy asked.

“Oh, the three non-ponies leading the silly thing,” Discord explained dismissively, “They’re nice enough, I suppose, but they really need a vacation.”

“Dragon Lord Ember, Prince Rutherford, and King Pharynx,” Gilda explained, “That last one really doesn’t sit well with most of the Orduud. See, the changelings aren’t really part of the Orduud, so it’s bugging everyone that one of the leadership positions is being filled by them. Grigori has been trying to rile everyone up against them. He’s got the camels in a frenzy pushing for war with Saddle Arabia for some reason…”

“He sounds nuts!” Rainbow exclaimed.

“Oh, he is,” Gilda nodded.

“That, too, was my professional assessment,” Discord chuckled.

“Is the Orduud going to attack us?” Rainbow asked.

“I doubt it,” Gilda snorted, “Ember, Rutherford, and Pharynx are pretty strong leaders. Grigori is just a backstabbing ankle-biter. Even the muscle-heads barking for war will choose strong leaders over a guy like Grigori.”

“Well, if they want a fight, send them my way!” Rainbow slammed her hooves together, “I’ll show them how tough ponies can be!”

Gilda smirked, but inside she actually tried to visualize it. The ponies were small, had thinner hides than any race in the Orduud, lacked claws, fangs, or talons. Their magic was some of the most powerful in the world, but very few unicorns could achieve anything beyond levitation. They had flight, but aside from Rainbow Dash’s impossible speed, there was nothing unique about that. Their only physical strength was in their bucking, but like the unicorns, only specialists had any exceptional strength. Perhaps, Gilda mused, the ponies’ numbers would help them in a war…

She shook her head clear of the thoughts. She had left the Orduud to get away from their obsession with war, and there she was thinking about it!

“How does the Orduud work, anyway?” Fluttershy asked, “If I remember correctly, aren’t all the races involved their own separate governments? You made sure to use Ember, Rutherford, and Pharynx’s titles, so I’m assuming they all have their leaders still in place. If that’s the case, what keeps the races’ leaders following the Triumvirate?”

“Uh, well,” Gilda scratched her chin, trying to remember how it was explained to her, “We’re kind of a confederation. The leaders of each race have agreed to follow the leadership of the Triumvirate because, well, the three leaders have the closest ties with ponies and – originally – the Orduud wanted to avoid conflict. Really all any of us wanted was to be treated with courtesy and respect by ponies, but that didn’t happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Rainbow demanded, “I respect you!”

“I appreciate that,” Gilda chuckled, “but I mean, we wanted our nations to be treated equally with yours.”

Rainbow Dash bit her tongue, conscious of the fact she had almost said no other nation was equal to Equestria. Although her opinion hadn’t changed on that, she realized from her previous discussions with her friends that saying something like that would just anger and offend. Instead the pegasus merely nodded, which caused the griffon to raise an eyebrow. It was a strangely subdued action for the Wonderbolt, but rather than question it Gilda changed subjects.

“So, what is there to do in town?” she asked, “I hear you had to help rebuild the place after some kind of riot. I’m imagining there’s not much left?”

“Actually, Gilda,” Fluttershy interjected, “since you’ll be extending your stay in Ponyville until the Orduud calms down, maybe we could help you find a place to stay? Not that Discord or I mind guests, but neither of our homes are designed for extended visits.”

“I get it,” Gilda snorted, “Alright then. Dash, you wanna help me look for a place to stay for a few… I don’t know, weeks? Months?”

“I’ll help you find a job, too,” Rainbow beamed, “Unless you’ve got untold riches I haven’t heard of to pay all those bills.”

“Good point,” the griffon chuckled.

“I believe you mentioned something about baking while you were staying over?” Discord brought up, “I’m sure Pinkie Pie knows a perfect job for you somewhere.”

“She won’t mind the competition?” Gilda meant it as a joke, knowing that while she had quickly become one of the best (probably the best) bakers in Griffonstone, she was still leagues behind Pinkie’s confectionary skills.

“Oh no, she’s gotten over that kind of competition years ago,” Fluttershy answered anyway, “She’ll probably help you get everything up and running, too.”

“Yeah, Pinkie’s cool like that,” Rainbow Dash nodded.

“I remember,” Gilda smiled involuntarily, “Sure, why not? I guess I’ve missed her more than I’d care to admit.”

“Well then,” Rainbow opened her door for the others, “what are we waiting for?”


…


Starlight looked at the reports on her desk. At first she had been elated to finally receive some work, but the reports were all troubling. Despite Chancellor Mare being in charge of domestic policies, many of them overlapped with international policies, or otherwise required her authorization. Then there was her work with Flim on trade policies. In between the torrent of papers, Starlight had tried studying the structure, laws, and constitution of the Lunar Republic.
The whole thing was a mess, which was to be expected since they had built it in a matter of weeks. Even with all the effort on Luna’s part, and all the preparation the city-states had gone through, the entire system was built on shaky foundations and fit to collapse in on itself. All of the policies and laws the senate was trying to pass were stopgaps rather than lasting solutions. Unfortunately, Starlight had no authority over that, so she returned her attention to foreign affairs.

“Is this report… accurate?” she asked her aide.

“As accurate as can be, I reckon,” Apple Bloom drawled out. Starlight hadn’t hesitated in making the filly her assistant, despite the fact her presence painfully reminded the unicorn of a certain dragon. “What does it say, anyway?”

“You didn’t read it?” Starlight was surprised, then impressed, “Of course you didn’t. You’re a good kid, not sneaking peaks at other ponies’ mail.”

“That didn’t answer my question,” the filly snorted.

“The report states that Saddle Arabia is currently being invaded by the camels,” Starlight said, choosing not to hold her punches, “They’ve requested military support from the Empire, but for some reason they aren’t sending any.”

“What?!” Apple Bloom gaped, “Wait, we’re at war with the camels?!”

“Saddle Arabia is, apparently,” Starlight grimaced, “We can’t get involved.”

“You can’t be serious,” the filly scoffed, “Those are ponies that are being attacked! Sure, they didn’t join the Republic, but we have to help!”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Starlight gave a mirthless chuckle, “but we can’t afford this right now. We don’t even have a military!”

“If Celestia ain’t going to help them, some pony has to!” the filly demanded, “You should take this opportunity to make the Lunar Republic a symbol of dependability for all of pony kind!”

Starlight was about to retort, but stopped short. There was merit in Apple Bloom’s idea, but there was also a great risk. Aside from the Royal Guard and city-state police forces, no land inhabited by ponies had had anything like a military since King Sombra. It could look bad, especially if the Orduud – whom the camels were a member – took the Republic’s intervention as an excuse to retaliate. But, it could also serve the Republic greatly. Celestia and the Empire were either unaware or simply didn’t care about Saddle Arabia’s plight, so if the Lunar Republic offered aid and fought off the camels, well, they’d be the heroes…

“I can’t do any of this anyway,” Starlight shook her head, “the Senate won’t allow it.”

“Did you even read the constitution?” Apple Bloom asked, “The President has the power to declare war, and during wartime, if the Senate isn’t cooperating, she has the power to call a state of emergency and bypass the Senate. If they won’t help you, then you can just go around them.”

“What a horrible system!” the unicorn blanched at what she was hearing, “Are you saying all I have to do is declare war in order to seize power?”

“Well, you’ll only be able to bypass the Senate,” Apple Bloom shrugged, “You’d still have to work with the Chancellor, but since the Chancellor can be appointed and dismissed by the President in the first place… You know, now that I’m saying all this out loud I can see how it might be a problem.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Starlight groaned, “let’s get the Senate to approve this idea of yours. Maybe I won’t have to flex my muscles.”

“I think we’ll be in luck,” Apple Bloom offered a hopeful smile, “Last I saw it was all any of them were talking about. I wouldn’t be surprised if the military plan is back on the table.”

“Then what are we waiting for? An invitation?” Starlight laughed as she led the way out of her office and out of her mansion. The Lunar Republic Senate was held on the estate dedicated to their government by their wealthy supporter, but just because it was held outside made it no less grand.

They quieted down as Starlight entered their arena, several senators giving respectful greetings towards her. She returned the greetings before asking to bring something to their attention, which the Senate was fine with. Chancellor Mare stepped down and let Starlight take the stage.

“I wish to put forth a request that we build up a military force to aid in the defense of Saddle Arabia from the camel invasion,” she said plainly, trying to ignore some of the indignant cries of the senators, “Now, before any of you go ballistic, I also want to point out that we have an obligation to the defense of all Equestria – not just to the city-states part of the Republic.”

“I agree,” Braeburn said quickly, forestalling protests from the four other senators, “We need to send aid immediately.”

“We can’t just build an army overnight,” Prance’s senator pointed out.

“Speak for yourself,” the Stalliongrad senator let out a bark of a laugh, “Stalliongrad can produce an army of a hundred ponies within the week.”

“Poorly-trained conscripts aren’t exactly what we had in mind…” Spring Dahlias muttered.

“If I might make a suggestion?” Chancellor Mare spoke up, drawing all eyes to her, “There have been numerous resignations in the Imperial Guard due to recent events. It might be possible to recruit these soldiers to train troops in each city-state.”

“That’d be a good idea,” Braeburn smiled at the suggestion.

“No offense, Chancellor,” the Prench senator grimaced, “but it sounds as if you are suggesting a centralized military.”

“That would be efficient,” Starlight pointed out.

“It would rob the city-states of their identities. Prance has a proud military history, and my constituents will not appreciate abandoning their traditions and giving their foals over to military service for other city-states.”

“What the-” Starlight did a double-take, “I’m sorry, but aren’t we a nation? Aren’t we supposed to work together?”

“Working together is all fine and dandy,” the Las Pegasus senator spoke up, “but asking ponies to fight for city-states they’ve never even been to? Especially a city-state like Saddle Arabia, which hates our guts? That’s asking too much.”

“Then I have another suggestion,” Chancellor Mare preempted Starlight’s rebuttal, “What if we raise a volunteer army trained by the formal Imperial Guard?”

“And who would fund it?” the Las Pegasus senator sneered, “War isn’t cheap, and I think I’ve made it clear Las Pegasus has no interest in the war.”

“What if there was a reason to be interested?” Apple Bloom spoke up, surprising Starlight.

“Who let a filly in here?” the Stalliongrad senator asked.

“She’s my ai- er… my Secretary of Administration,” Starlight said, trying to give Apple Bloom some leverage.

“How could we have any interest in getting involved in a war between nations who don’t support us?” Spring Dahlias asked.

“Well,” Apple Bloom thought about it, “for one thing, Saddle Arabia and the other pony city-states would see our intervention as a good thing, wouldn’t they? In fact, since the Empire isn’t doing anything to help, it might inspire a whole mess of them to join us – which would only make the Lunar Republic stronger and wealthier.”
Braeburn arched an eyebrow at his cousin, not sure when she had become so ambitious, but the other senators looked at each other in contemplation. Seeing her moment, Starlight stepped in.

“In addition to the prestige we’d get with the other city-states,” she said, “if we beat the camels, we could negotiate terms in a treaty – trading rights, mutual defense pacts, and recognition of the Lunar Republic as an official nation. Since they’re part of the Orduud, this could also open the door for negotiation with them – something the Empire refuses to do.”

“That’s a lot of trade opportunities,” the Las Pegasus senator grinned slowly, “definitely worth a small military investment.”

“The prestige…” the Prench senator’s eyes glittered with memories of his city-states foregone glory.

“The power!” the Stalliongrad senator chuckled, eagerly.

“And what if the war doesn’t go as expected?” Spring Dahlias asked the hard question, “What if we’re forced into a war against the entire Orduud? What if Saddle Arabia and Cameloo make peace and we’re stuck fighting the war on our own? What if the Empire takes the opportunity and conquers us? What if we can’t keep up the horsepower and no pony enlists?”
The senators were silent again, and even Starlight and Chancellor Mare mulled this over.

“I say we have the opportunity to liberate all of Equestria with this action,” Apple Bloom stamped her hoof, “I say we can make the Lunar Republic the pony nation, that we can make her strong and prosperous and prove to the rest of the world that we aren’t just a bunch of dreamers, but doers! We can save Saddle Arabia.”

“I choose to stand by my cousin,” Braeburn grinned, “She seems to know what she’s saying.”

“Stalliongrad would be honored to march for the Republic.”

“Prance has never shied away from a fight.”

“Las Pegasus will expect a full return on our investment, but we’ll join too.”

Every pony looked at Spring Dahlias, who only sighed in resignation, barely nodding her head.

“Well then,” Starlight smirked, “let’s get to building that army.”


…


“Tia, please!” Flam pleaded.

The alicorn sighed and glared down at him from her velvet cushions padding the dais she enjoyed looking down on others from. Flam hadn’t thought it possible, but she looked even more ostentatious with greater amounts of gild and fine silks, in bright reds, oranges, and yellows. The whole thing was bordering on garish.

“What is it now, Flim?” she asked.

“I’m Flam…”

“Whatever.”

“Er… well, it’s just that you haven’t been doing any of your royal duties lately-”

“Who are you to dictate to me my duties, worm?!” Celestia sat bolt upright, flaring her wings. Flam blanched at the sight of them; they were losing their feathers, becoming spindly, fleshy things with spines that made his stomach churn. The teeth in her mouth had become sharper, more pronounced, like fangs, and her eyes had returned to that dark hue he had hoped he’d imagined.

“Cameloo has invaded Saddle Arabia!” Flam continued, “We need to do something!”

“Ugh,” Celestia rolled her eyes, “Can’t those sand-shufflers solve their own problems for once? I swear, if it’s not Saddle Arabia whining about the camels, it’s Germane mewling about their crop shortages.”

“Th-that’s another thing,” Flam chuckled without mirth, “the crop shortages are causing a famine, and there are reports of… um…”

“Spit it out, Sham,” Celestia scowled.

“There are reports of windigos, Your Majesty,” Flam swallowed hard, “Rumors from the north that the cold is creeping in, sightings of wolfish beasts in the snowy winds. It’s only October. Even in Germane it shouldn’t be that cold.”

“It’s probably the pegasi being lazy in their work,” Celestia spat, “Pegasus and earth pony city-states are breeding grounds for dissent, always complaining about how they have to work… Not like unicorns. Model citizens, unicorns.”

“Yes, well,” Flam coughed into his hoof, “I suppose they are just… rumors.”

“Exactly,” Celestia chuckled, “Anything else?”

“The attack on Saddle Arabia, Your Majesty…?”

“They can hold the line,” Celestia sighed again, “If it bothers you so much, get the Diet to do something about it.”

“I’m just a member of the Friendly Finances Bureau,” Flam pointed out, “I’m not even a noble! I have no authority in the Diet!”

“Hmm?” Celestia arched an eyebrow then called over one of her secretaries, “You there. By my order, Flam is to be raised to nobility and given a seat on the Diet. Understood? Here is my seal. Ensure the paperwork is done properly or I’ll see you in iron-wrought chains.”

The secretary gulped, nodded, and galloped off.

“Within the hour you’ll have your authority,” Celestia smirked, “So get out there and make things happen. I don’t want to see you back here until you have nothing but good news to report, understood?!”

“Y-yes Tia…” Flam kowtowed before skulking away. His heart felt like lead. Perhaps if he could solve the Saddle Arabian situation his beloved Empress of the Day would return back to normal?

Celestia watched him leave, feeling something very deep inside her, locked away. She couldn’t seem to smother the candle flame of her former self, but she could contain it. Reflecting on herself she remembered she had to meet Cadance at the train station within the hour. Seeing her transformation in a mirror, she cringed. Somehow she knew that, under normal circumstances, her apotheosis would be instantaneous – one minute a pure alicorn, the next a demonic thestral – but she was actively attempting to suppress the change, and seeing her body shift so slowly was disturbing. Focusing all of her willpower, she suppressed the changes, reverting back to her alicorn state with great difficulty. The change was becoming harder to suppress with each passing day.

“Time to greet my favorite niece,” she sighed.


…


Pharynx felt like hatchling at feeding time, barely able to contain his excitement. He looked at the mass of warriors gathering in their camps at the foot of Griffonstone. Herds of yaks, flocks of griffons, and dragons too. They were so different… The yaks gathered in loose formations, hardly even deserving the word. The griffons on the other hand performed drills in serried ranks, focused on order and discipline. Finally, there were the dragons: independent warriors whose thick hides, hardened scales, claws, fangs, and fire made each one more dangerous than a dozen of the yaks and griffons combined.

They had developed strategies for the three races to cooperate despite their different tactics. Usually the yaks served as the backbone of their force, supported by wings of griffon aerial support. The dragons were as independent as ever, going where they were needed either on land or in the sky. The only thing they lacked were magic users to counter the ponies’ greatest advantage, but their numbers and the surprising swiftness of their strike should be enough.
He was all set to meet with Grigori and Garble when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

“I don’t remember scheduling any drills for today,” Dragon Lord Ember stated as she approached, Prince Rutherford by her side. Pharynx could see from her expression that she knew exactly what was going on. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Pharynx stayed silent, conflicted on how to act. Every impulse told him to lie, to try and come up with an excuse or an argument to defend their plan, but another part demanded why he should have to do that. This was the correct course of action, wasn’t it? There was no reason to be ashamed; the pro-war faction was not the villain. No, if anything it was Ember’s regime of catering to the ponies that was wrong. She and Rutherford had already lost control of the Orduud through their weakness. Still, his hesitation prompted Ember to continue.

“Grigori is a fool for trying to start a war with the ponies,” she stated, “and you’re twice the fool for following him! You think that army down there can really conquer Equestria? It won’t even be able to stand up to one of the alicorns, let alone four!”

“Your lack of faith in the Orduud is despicable,” Pharynx spat, “No wonder you lost control. We have a plan to take Canterlot while the Princesses – or whatever they’re calling themselves these days – are away. We’ll distract them, then seize the capital from under their muzzles! With Canterlot and their goddesses held hostage, the ponies will be forced to meet our demands.”

“What are demands?” Rutherford asked.

“Well, uh…” Pharynx blanked. He hadn’t actually been told what the demands were. Grigori had promised a war – conquest, riches, and glory – and that had been enough for most of them. “Whatever we want!”

“Even if you could incapacitate their most powerful alicorns, that still leaves three others, and the Elements of Harmony. And the Pillars, wherever they are.”

“The battle will be quick, and those halfwit heroes won’t even know Canterlot’s in danger until it’s too late,” Pharynx argued, “When we take the capital, the rest will fall.”

“And plans to take Lunar Republic?” Rutherford asked, threateningly, “We saw them. You dishonor Orduud; try to conquer new nation while at war with old!”

“Oh, so the ponies lose a few city-states!” Pharynx scoffed, “We’ll ransom them back in exchange for the donkey, zebra, and buffalo lands.”

“What about Cameloo, huh?” Ember demanded, “We have reports they’re at war with Saddle Arabia, and we’ve seen your plans. There’s no support for the camels!”

“Once we take the capital,” Pharynx repeated, growing irritated, “the ponies will make peace!”

“Many promises,” Rutherford muttered, “Talk cheap.”

“Yeah, well tomorrow night you’ll see that our actions are worth far more than cheap talk,” Pharynx snapped back, “Unless you two have some kinda muscle to stop us, I suggest you go back to your paperwork or whatever it is bureaucrats hide behind.”

“Gah!” Ember raged, turning on her heel and leaving, “I should have had Thorax here instead!”

Rutherford merely snorted in disdain, shaking his shaggy body, before turning and following Ember. With such a simple gesture, Pharynx realized, the Triumvirate had been dissolved. He knitted his brow in thought over that. Ember and Rutherford’s authority was gone, even in name, and with it his own. Grigori could seize power openly, but once the assault was over that might not be as clean-cut as it sounded. Grigori was old, weak, a schemer, and wasn’t even leading the attack. Once the fighting was over and the rule of might makes right instated, the dragons, yaks, and griffons would erupt into a feud over who should rule, and Pharynx knew even Grigori’s schemes couldn’t save the Orduud from the inevitable infighting…

The changeling looked at the army again, now conscious of the likelihood they’d be at each other’s throats in a few weeks. Was there a leader strong enough to unite them all?


...


Spike fidgeted at the post office entrance, trying to make himself smaller to draw less attention. He failed miserably.  If he stood on his hind legs and craned his neck, his head could reach the roof of the single-story building. Normally this would have excited him, but his newfound size was hard to get used to. On the trip there he had broken a patio table and three windows on accident, earning him scowls of hatred from the increasingly pony-supremacist elitists running Canterlot’s business. He couldn’t even fit into most buildings anymore!

Fortunately, his filly-friend could.

“Sorry Spike,” she sighed in her southern drawl as she exited the building, “still no mail from Twilight, for you, Starlight, or Trixie. The mare at the desk said Ponyville was still a little unstable, what with Flutterhy’s secession and that riot that happened over the vote. Maybe Twilight’s duties as a Princess are keeping her busy?”

“Maybe,” Spike sighed, though he hadn’t gotten his hopes up, “She might also be having trouble without an assistant. I mean, she’s had me by her side since her school days!”

“That is a long time,” Apple Bloom nodded, sagely, “Hey, I got an idea!”

“What’s that?” Spike asked.

“Well, since classes got canceled awhile back and all I have going on is my job as – heh-heh – Secretary of Administration, we could visit Ponyville for a few days!” the filly suggested, looking up at her now-towering drake-friend. When he returned to all fours he wasn’t much taller than Discord until he sat upright; that new neck of his really added some height.

“That’s a great idea, AB!” Spike gave a fanged grin which terrified, awed, and excited Apple Bloom in equal measure. The dragon frowned suddenly. “Except I don’t think I can fit on the train anymore.”

“If only you had wings,” Apple Bloom tsked.

“Funny you should mention that,” the dragon chuckled, “Apparently we get those at the onset of puberty, but I have no idea when that would be for dragons.”

“It’s something to look forward to, at least,” Apple Bloom giggled.

“Maybe they can hook up a freight car?” Spike tapped his chin, “No matter. We’ll get there somehow.”

“I reckon we could join Flim on his vacation to Ponyville in a few weeks,” Apple bloom suggested, “That’d give us time to properly plan.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a familiar thestral landing before them. Spike struggled not to bow. It was a good thing he did, too; in his newer form, he wasn’t sure he knew how to bow anymore. Night Bane studied the dragon a moment before looking down at the filly.

“Madame Secretary,” he nodded in greeting, “I’ve gathered the former members of the Night Guard interested in joining the Lunar Republic’s army.”

“Whoa, what’s all this about?” Spike blinked, “Army? Former Night Guard?”

“You didn’t tell him?” Night Bane arched an eyebrow at Apple Bloom.

“The Lunar Republic is building an army to help Saddle Arabia fend off the invasion from Cameloo,” the filly explained quickly, “Night Bane and some of the other Night Guard are volunteering to train them. They, uh… got laid off.”

“Really?” the dragon raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“No!” Night Bane scoffed, then regained composure, “I mean… Luna suggested some of us retire and seek other ways our skills could benefit pony-kind.”

“So she encouraged you to quit the Night Guard and join the Lunar Republic?” Spike smirked at Luna’s blatant support for the nation she couldn’t officially join.

“I didn’t quit,” Night Bane scowled, I retired. This was the request of my Princess, even if she refuses to acknowledge the title, so I follow it.”

“You’re a lot more… open now,” Spike noted.

“I’m no longer in the service,” Night Bane smirked, “technically I’m something of a mercenary now, so I don’t need to act like I have a training sword up my butt the whole time.”

Spike’s face flushed at the crass humor, but Apple Bloom laughed loudly at the joke. The dragon had always found it odd how the Crusaders always held a much cruder sense of humor than he did. Sweetie Belle was by far the worst, but none of them were exactly squeaky-clean. Finally, something from earlier clicked in Spike’s head and he turned on his filly-friend.

“Wait, we’re at war with Cameloo?!” he demanded.

“So far it’s just Saddle Arabia,” Apple Bloom explained, slightly startled, “The camels swooped out of the desert separating their cities, from what I heard. Celestia hasn’t responded yet.”

“The Night Guards who have followed me into retirement didn’t need much convincing,” Night Bane grunted, “Word around the barracks is that there are no orders to mobilize the Guard. The nobles and the Diet are too busy debating whether or not it’s worth the effort, and no one has seen the Empress in days. Well, no one other than Flam and a few servants she has sequestered away.”

“Does Luna know?” Spike asked, “Surely she can do something. She’s an Empress too, isn’t she?”

“Unfortunately, the title itself doesn’t carry much weight,” Apple Bloom explained, “See, Luna’s openly opposed the Empire and Celestia, and has rejected the title. The Diet, the nobles, and the Imperial Guard pay her lip service, so to speak, but won’t do a thing she says.”

“So the Diet is just going to argue until Celestia orders them to do something?” the dragon gaped, “Wow, that’s a horrible system.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Night Bane grunted, “I’m just glad the same thing didn’t happen in the Republic.”

“How long until you guys are ready to help Saddle Arabia?” Spike asked.

“Well, our recruiting drive just started, but ponies in all five city-states are galloping in to serve, and message is circulating in Imperial city-states, too,” Night Bane said, “The recruiting process is modeled on the old Royal Guard system, so I’d say recruiting and processing will take… a month or so?”

“Can Saddle Arabia hold out that long?” Apple Bloom asked.

“I’ve served in one of the skirmish campaigns between Saddle Arabia and Cameloo,” the thestral looked glassy eye with memory for a moment, “The camels are tough fighters, experts in desert warfare, but so are the Saddle Arabians. They’ll keep fighting even if they lose all their cities, raiding out of the desert. I have no doubt they’ll last months, if not years, on their own.”

The youths took the veteran’s word on the matter and with nothing else to discuss, they departed.

“I need to get back to work soon, Spike,” Apple Bloom said, “I hope you can find something to entertain you until the next time we meet?”

“I’ll see if Scootaloo’s busy,” Spike replied.

“I said something, not some girl,” Apple Bloom chided.

Spike looked down at the filly in surprise, then cracked a wry grin.

“Wait, are you jealous of me hanging out with Scootaloo?” he asked.

“Hay no!” Apple Bloom scoffed, “Well… maybe a little. I mean, you spend a lot of time with her, and I’ve always gotten the feeling you don’t… feel that way for me. I can’t help but feel paranoid about you hanging out with other fillies.”

The dragon was silent for a moment, unsure how to respond. The truth was he didn’t feel that way for Apple Bloom. Yet. He was confident the more time they spent together, the more chance there was for true love to… bloom. Sure, he spent a lot more time with Scootaloo than his filly-friend, but that was because she was fun to hang out with and the only pony in Canterlot not picking a side.

“Do you feel that way about me?” Spike asked, feeling stupid as soon as he said it. He expected Apple Bloom to angrily round on him, to chew him out and remind him that she was the one who confessed, but instead she actually contemplated the question, a guilty look on her face for some reason.

“That’s a stupid question,” she said, almost absentmindedly, “I gotta go to work, Spike. Talk to you later, alright?”

“Uh… alright,” the dragon lowered his snout so they could rub noses briefly, though it lacked warmth. Once she disappeared, he groaned in agitation at his stupidity. “When am I going to understand girls?”

“Probably never,” Scootaloo spoke up, prompting the dragon to turn around and wrap his neck around the corner of the nearest building. Sure enough, in a cart in the alleyway, lay the pegasus, snacking on an apple. She gave a smirk and a nod. “’Sup?”

“How long have you been eavesdropping?!” Spike hissed out.

“Eavesdropping?!” Scootaloo feigned offense, jackknifing to her haunches, “I’m just taking a break from my job!”

“Oh, that’ ridic-” the dragon began, then paused, “Wait, what job?”

“Since Sweetie and AB are busy most of the time and classes got canceled,” Scootaloo explained briefly, “I’ve been working as a delivery filly for a fruit store. I’m the fastest deliverer in the city, thanks to my scooter.”

“Why not just go back to Ponyville?” the dragon asked, “I mean, I know the other Crusaders are your best friends, but why not go home and hang out with Rainbow Dash, or your other classmates, or your family, or-”

Scootaloo blanched at the mention of her family and interrupted, saying “Hey, why don’t you go back to Ponyville? I mean, at least I got a job! What are you doing except tanking with your relationships?”

Spike winced back, scowling. The pegasus flinched, realizing her words had come out way worse than she meant them to. She rubbed the back of her head, knowing she needed to say something quick or he’d run off to brood and she’d lose the only friend in Canterlot that wasn’t too busy to hang out with her. Realizing she had nothing else to say than the truth, she decided to open up.

“Sorry,” she sighed, “I just… I don’t want to go back to Ponyville.”

Spike raised an eyebrow, but by this expression she could tell he wasn’t any closer to forgiving her, so she continued.

“Look, this is a really personal subject. I’m serious, it’s a secret I’ve kept from everybody except Rainbow Dash,” she said, “and before you ask, no it’s not my crush on Rumble.” When she thought about the gray pegasus she found her attractions waning fast. Even the idea of Sweetie Belle dating him didn’t bother her anymore; he was a good friend, but that was about it now.

Now Spike was interested, so she took a deep breath before continuing.

“I don’t want to see my parents again,” she confessed.

Spike blinked, then shook his head.

“You have parents?” the dragon asked. He got the impression she was a homeless orphan, but in retrospect that didn’t make sense since she could clearly afford to be clean, fed, and maintain her scooter. “Why wouldn’t you want to see them? They don’t… they don’t abuse you, do they?”

“I wish,” Scootaloo confessed, “even that would be a relief. No, they don’t do anything to me, or for me. My entire life, they’ve always been too busy for me. They leave me with a really neglectful babysitter, like 90% of the time – I’m not even joking! – and they’ve forgotten my birthdays at least four times. Why do you think I’m out of the house so much?”

“That’s terrible,” Spike said. Scootaloo was about to snap at him about pity, but she saw in his eyes and actual empathy and understanding that made her pause.

“Why do I get the feeling you understand what I’m going through?” she asked.

“I never knew my parents, so I’ve always had these little fantasies about what it would be like if I ever met them,” Spike chuckled, scratching his cheek, then he frowned, “but then something occurs to me… There’s only three ways my egg could have ended up with Celestia: either it was stolen, or lost, or… sold.”

Scootaloo frowned, too.

“I have fantasies that my parents loved me, but I’ve seen how dragons were and I’m not so sure. I doubt Celestia would buy a stolen egg – and she certainly wouldn’t steal one herself! – but I also doubt a dragon would misplace an egg. The only logical solution, then, is that my parents… sold me.”

“Spike, you don’t know that…” Scootaloo said, softly.

“True,” the dragon chuckled, “but that’s not the point. The point is, I might not have parents, and I’ve fantasized about having a family, but I’ve also brooded on being neglected by said family. I haven’t experienced it, like you, but I’m more familiar with the idea than most others.”

“I really am sorry for snapping at you earlier,” Scootaloo sighed, “you didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s fine,” he smiled, “To be honest, I’m glad you’re staying in Canterlot. I’d miss you if you left.”

Ba-dump.

Scootaloo blinked, face paling. Did her heart just skip a beat? Uh-oh.

“Anyway, did you want to hang out?” the dragon smirked, “I bet I could beat you at sparring now.”

“No!” Scootaloo blushed as she heard her voice hit a new octave, “I mean, I have so many more deliveries to make before I’m off work, and then I have to meet Sweetie Belle for… uh… a pie… contest.”

“Oh, that sounds cool,” Spike said, “Is it a baking contest or an eating contest? Can I sign up?”

“Er…” Scootaloo shut her eyes in frustration. Why had she said a pie contest? “It’s… the number pi?”

“…The number pi?” Spike deadpanned, “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“…Yeah.”

Spike laughed loudly, his deeper voice splitting the air like a thunderstorm. Scootaloo felt her wings pomf for an instant, but she got them under control before her noticed.

“Look, if you and Sweetie Belle want to gush about Rumble, it’s none of my business,” he said with a smirk, “but you should come up with a better lie than that.”

“R-right,” she chuckled, weakly, “A-anyway, I’ve gotta go.”

“Sure,” Spike nodded, “I’ll see what Trixie is up to. She’s in the same boat as me, last I remember.”

“Sounds good!” the pegasus fled on her scooter, shouting back “Good luck with that!”

The dragon shook his head, amused, but then turned his efforts to looking for the only friend he had left who wasn’t busy.


...


The train pulled into the station and once all the regular ponies had emptied their cars, a carpet was rolled out, the Imperial Guard flanking either side. Cadance exited the private train car dedicated to royalty, holding herself with regal poise as she was greeted with trumpets and fanfare. She kept her shock hidden at the sight of the martial display and masses of cheering ponies. It was larger, with more soldiers and the civilians seemed to force their excitement, but this alone was not too shocking. No, what truly surprised her was her aunt.

Celestia waited in a gilded chariot, wearing a fine silk dress of fiery red beneath a suit of golden armor, etched with glyphs that blazed with magic. Atop her head, in place of her old tiara, was a new crown of electrum. A slot rested in the center, allowing the Empress of the Day’s horn to fit through, and this was flanked by eight golden horns – four on either side – to create the illusion of a sun. Aside from this, Celestia was nearly draped in gold and silver jewelry, bejeweled from horn to hoof in rubies, topaz, and diamonds that made her look ablaze. Beside her was a mustachioed stallion who, despite his own ostentatious finery, looked thoroughly whipped. The Princess of Love could sense there was a problem there involving the heart.

Cadance worried internally if, perhaps, Luna had not exaggerated Celestia’s condition. She kept all of her anxiety hidden, of course, with an ease that could only be achieved through years as a practiced states-pony. Once she reached the chariot, she made sure to bow low and gracefully to the Empress.

“Princess Cadance,” Celestia purred out, too predatory for the Princess’ liking, “it is a pleasure to see you. Luna gave me such short notice – I hope this little greeting I threw together isn’t too pathetic? An Alicorn Ruler deserves only the greatest of introductions.”

“It’s actually a little much, Aunt Tia,” Cadance giggled, but the laughter died when she noticed Celestia’s expression darken, “But it’s very thoughtful. Thank you, it is an honor.”

“Of course it is,” Celestia’s smile returned, “You will be the first Princess to reaffirm your oaths in person. You even beat Twilight to it; aren’t you lucky?”

“I… came to visit family and have a diplomatic meeting with leaders of the Lunar Republic,” Cadance said, “I wasn’t told about any reaffirming of oaths.”

“I need to ensure your loyalty,” Celestia motioned for her to join them in the chariot, “You see, Luna has rejected her title of Empress, and is openly supporting dissent among my subjects. She has the Republic building a military, of all things!”

“Surely there’s a reason?” Cadance asked, gaping at the very notion of an army being built up.

“Cameloo-” Flam began, but was silenced by a glare from Celestia so threatening that even Cadance flinched back.

“Ignore him,” the Empress stated flatly, “Suffice it to say, there’s an incident occurring in the east – rumors, really – and the traitors are using the opportunity to make gains through conquest.”

“That doesn’t sound…” Cadance began, but grew quiet at her aunt’s withering gaze, “Aunt Lulu would never support a regime like that.”

“I thought she’d never betray me, once upon a time,” Celestia gave a snide smirk, “she is full of surprises, that one.”

The carriage made it inside the castle grounds before the Empress spoke up again.

“Will the rest of your family be joining us tomorrow for Nightmare Night?” she asked, “I’ve planned for the festivities to be quite educational this year.”

“I was worried the city might be too dangerous for Flurry Heart, but security has certainly improved,” Cadance dressed her criticism up as a compliment, “What do you mean by ‘educational’?”

“As you know, Nightmare Night celebrates the vanquishing of Nightmare Moon, and my sister’s banishment to the moon for her crimes,” Celestia explained, “I intend to make sure ponies remember it is a night to remember treason.”

“It’s evolved beyond that,” Cadance argued, “It’s a holiday about costumes, treats, and harmless scares now.”

“It’s lost its true meaning,” Celestia ground out, “I would delight in seeing my grandniece tomorrow. Won’t you humor me?”

Cadance opened her mouth, then closed it again. She thought it over before nodding once.

“I’ll send word to Shining Armor and Sunburst as soon as I have the time.”

“Excellent!” Celestia almost cackled.

Cadance’s eyes watched the gates close behind them, guarded by dozens of stony-faced guards. The castle grounds were filled with soldiers, pompous nobility, and servants trying to make themselves as small as possible, afraid to look up. The sight was heart-wrenching, but Cadance dared not speak up. Everywhere she looked was a sight of blind obedience, haughty command, or silent resignation. How had everything fallen so far so quickly? Cadance jumped a little when her aunt spoke again, taking her by surprise.

“Tomorrow will be a night to remember,” the Empress purred out, and for the briefest of seconds, Cadance could have sworn…

…something was different with her eyes.
> 21
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


21


Nightmare Night, Late Morning

The city of Canterlot was just as beautiful as Shining Armor remembered it. There was always that sense of nostalgia whenever he stepped off the train to return to the capital, and he would be lying if he said he never missed his old duty station. Still, it was no longer his home – that honor was held by whatever city his wife and daughter were in. Smiling at the thought of his wife, he spared a look at the foal carriage beside him, an exhausted Sunburst behind it.

“She looks like an angel,” Shining Armor commented.

“You weren’t saying that on the train ride when she kept us up all night,” the Crystaller yawned.

“Well, that was last night,” Shining Armor chuckled, suppressing a yawn of his own. His smile fell when he saw the array of guards standing at parade rest, and the crowd of forcibly-happy ponies. His eyes drifted up and saw his wife waiting anxiously beside an imperious-looking Celestia. He bowed smoothly with Sunburst. “Your Highness.”

“Shining Armor,” Celestia said, evenly, “and the Crystaller. Oh, and little Flurry Heart, too! Excellent, excellent! I can’t wait for her to enjoy her first Nightmare Night with her grandaunt.”

Shining allowed himself a smile. Things didn’t seem too bad. He had been worried when he had received Cadance’s sudden letter. She hadn’t said anything bad, per se, but there was something in the way she had written that expressed concern. Even now she looked worried, but what danger could there be? They were surrounded by dozens of Royal – ah, that’s right – Imperial Guards. He was a little wary of them, though; they were almost all new faces and they didn’t feel like soldiers. They seemed almost like machines…

The three newcomers approached the carriage Celestia had chosen for the day. It was similar to her chariot, but large enough to allow seating for all of them. Once they were on their way, the Empress of the Day decided to strike up some conversation, though the topic wasn’t what he expected.

“How did the Crystal Empire fare with the creation of the Lunar Republic?” she asked, “I’m curious because in nearly every other city-state there were reports of violence, but I haven’t heard anything about Cadance’s realm.”

“While there is something of a republican movement in the Crystal Empire, there-” Sunburst began.

“Was I asking you, Crystaller?” Celestia hissed out, narrowing her eyes.
Sunburst snapped his mouth shut and looked down while Shining Armor spared a wide-eyed glance at his wife. Oh… So this was why she was concerned. Well, this was much worse than a possible assassination or any of his other worst-case scenarios.

“Er…” Shining Armor picked up where Sunburst left off, “Like Sunburst said, there is a republican faction in the Crystal Empire, but they mostly push for liberalizing the Imperial institutions rather than a complete overhaul. Small stuff, like extending voting rights for members of the Diet, and having an elected council of representatives to discuss policy with the nobility and Cadance.”

“You allow the rabble to engage in dialogue with their betters?” Celestia laughed at the idea, “Surely they took to the streets in their mobs and rioted?”

“Er… no?” Shining Armor tilted his head, “Tempers flared a little, but relations between the classes have always been ideal in the Crystal Empire. The nobility and peasantry are pretty informal with each other. I mean, Cadance married me – I’m just a soldier, and she’s a Princess.”

“As I’ve explained in my letter to you earlier,” Cadance interjected before Celestia’s rage boiled over, “all of these policies are well within the parameters set forth by your decrees. And, as you can see, the system works; the Crystal Empire has resisted infighting.”

“For now,” Celestia sneered, “Those whining for more rights will keep begging, keep taking your generosity for granted, until you find yourself stabbed in the back. Trust me: give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile.”

Her guests exchanged worried glances. This was nothing at all like the Celestia they had known. Even Flurry Heart seemed to detect something of her grandaunt’s change, drawing deeper into her stroller in an effort to get away. Celestia couldn’t help an amused smirk splitting her face at the site. How weak and feeble the newest alicorn seemed, but all that would change in time. With proper guidance, Flurry Heart would be every bit the warrior Luna was; every bit the ruler Celestia was. For a moment, Celestia’s prescience foretold a great destiny for her grandniece, but she crushed the vision, disbelieving of its related imports. Visibly shaken, the others now eyed her with concern.

“Are you alright, Aunt Tia?” Cadance asked.

“Of course,” the older alicorn gave an uneasy smile, “I’m only worried the festivities won’t be as spectacular as they ought to be.”

The carriage passed a large hay-and-stick construct, clearly a skeleton of a vast pony-shaped idol, set up in the middle of Canterlot. Celestia leered at it in expectation and Cadance wondered exactly what purpose it would play in the ‘festivities’ her aunt had mentioned. Shining Armor shifted and she looked where he was watching: a group of colts and fillies was being herded into a cage by Imperial Guards. He looked confused and torn, unused to seeing the Guard perform a seemingly cruel task. From his memory and experience, the Guard was there to serve and protect, not imprison foals!

“What are they being arrested for?” he asked, earning a narrowing of eyes from the Empress. She spared a glance at the situation and laughed lightly.

“Oh, that,” she waved a hoof dismissively, “Do you not see what they’re wearing?”

Cadance looked closer and saw each of them was dressed in costumes; here an astronaut, there a cow-pony, one a devil, another an angel, and so on with generic, cheap outfits.

“Costumes?” Shining Armor asked, unsure if he were missing something.

“Exactly,” Celestia nodded, “in blatant defiance of my edict earlier prohibiting the wearing of costumes on this sacred day.”

“B-but, it’s Nightmare Night!” Sunburst blurted out, and the royal couple braced themselves, unsure how Celestia’s apparent instability would react, “Nightmare Night has a longstanding tradition of costumes and going from house to house. It’s a holiday for japes and harmless scares! Starlight and I used to love Nightmare Night for those very reasons!”

“The holiday was one of somber remembrance for the loss of my sister…” the Empress explained, something of her old self bleeding through her quiet words. It disappeared in an instant, buried by her newer self, “It was a day meant to remember the high treason that ravaged Equestria, and spread tales of Nightmare Moon’s evil as a warning! Now, though, it has become a holiday of children laughing on a night of tragedy! It has become a holiday of them wasting their time roleplaying as monsters and villains, going from house to house begging for candy like vagabonds… It’s a disgrace!”

“It’s fun,” Cadance said, softly, “It’s a tradition we’ve enjoyed for centuries… You used to take me out when I was younger. Remember?”

Celestia’s eyes flickered and she visibly faltered, as if struggling with some great dilemma inside herself. She shook her head and smiled with false warmth.

“Just for tonight, let’s try it the way it should be,” she said, “If it will put your mind at ease, I will free the ponies who have been arrested tonight. Perhaps… perhaps it is a bit strict.”

The others smiled, clearly relieved. And here they were worried Celestia was beyond reasoning! What were they thinking? She was just a little tense, maybe even unbalanced, but she wasn’t a monster. All she needed was some time among friends and family, just as Cadance had suspected. A look at her daughter made her question that logic, though.

Why was Flurry Heart so terrified of her grandaunt?


…


Pharynx looked at the trotting ranks of yaks, shadowed by the flock of griffons in the sky. Larger shadows in the swarm revealed the position of dragons. The changeling king new, of course, that they were not a literal swarm – not like the one he longed to see again – but they were a swarm in the sense of being a group of warriors moving in well-coordinated, but visually-chaotic mass. Morale was incredibly high as they moved hastily towards Canterlot. Then, all at once, they stopped their advance.

Pharynx wondered what could possibly thousands of yaks, griffons and dragons. What possible force could give them pause? He flew ahead to the vanguard, where Garble was already waiting. Unsurprisingly, Grigori had hung back… or so he thought.

“All of you should turn around,” Ember stood tall, her Dragon Lord Scepter held before her, “right now!”

The dragons shifted, unable to deny a command from the wielder of the scepter. Pharynx’s eyes widened in shock at the realization that this, more than anything else, could ruin their entire plan. Ember hadn’t come alone, either; Prince Rutherford was there too, along with the griffon Gabby, and a mix of Orduud members numbering in the hundreds. Pharynx could recognize some of them. Each of them was a part of Ember and Rutherford’s peace camp, and although the entirety of the pacifist faction of the Orduud wasn’t present, this relative handful still radiated strength in the face of an army. The army, so happy for the prospect of conquest, faltered in the face of this obstacle – an obstacle made up of loved ones, friends, neighbors, and mentors. The yaks were not sure how to respond to their prince opposing them, and the dragons would be powerless if Ember commanded them directly. Worse, if things escalated to violence, Ember’s camp might be pacifists, but they were also warriors in their own right. Some of them were heroes from past campaigns who had grown sick of war, but still had the skill to best hundreds of their kin.

Then Pharynx saw Grigori there, bound in chains, scowling like a kicked dog.

“Give this up before you make a mess of things, guys,” Ember’s shoulders slackened, “Please… We don’t need this, not now. We need to open a dialogue with the ponies and work through things without violence.”

“I’m so sick of hearing that!” Pharynx snapped, surprising even Garble, “I am sick of this inactivity! I’m sick of being denied an outlet for my warrior breeding! We need war! We need the conquest and glory! We need the opportunity to burn twice as bright, even if it’s only for half as long! I would rather live a short, brilliant life than a long one of boring, mundane service!”

“Farming is a noble profession, though,” Gabby spoke up, “So is construction, education, social work-”

“Those are all boring!” Garble interrupted, sneering like a child, “Why can’t we be what we want to be? Why can’t we fight? It’s our culture!”

“Because it doesn’t produce anything!” Ember snapped, “You talk about our culture and heritage, but what heritage?! Our warriors have produced nothing! All they’ve done is stolen treasures from others and hoard them, hiding them from others. That’s not a culture or heritage, that’s not inherited or shared as a common identity… that’s just greed! You wanna know which dragons actually developed our culture? The ones who wrote and made art! Without them, we wouldn’t have a dragon culture; we’d just be thugs stealing gold!”

“Traitor!” Garble roared.

“Prince Rutherford,” a yak warrior shouted, “what reason for not fight? We yaks proud fighters; we strong and free! Why no punish ponies before ponies take homes?”

“Ponies have not taken homes from yaks,” Rutherford shouted back, his strong, loud voice putting a check on his kin, “Yaks free, yaks strong! Attacking ponies prove nothing; only dishonor yaks by betraying friendship with ponies!”

“What about the ponies’ occupation of the zebra, donkey, and buffalo lands?” a griffon soldier asked.

“We didn’t want war!” a donkey in the pacifist camp stepped forward, “You claim you’re waging this war for us, but do you see a single zebra or donkey in your little army?”

The Orduud warriors shifted around, heads turning and scanning their ranks. They wore confused expressions as they realized it was only yaks, griffons and dragons.

“Exactly!” the donkey snorted in anger, “We wanted to join the Orduud to open up talks with the ponies, to negotiate our sovereignty. A lot of us have pony friends and family, we do business with ponies, we live beside ponies… We just wanted…”

He trailed off, unsure what they wanted, exactly.

“You wanted to be able to control your lands,” Grigori offered, earning venomous glares from the pacifists holding his chains, “It is only natural for a race to want to control the land they own, and not see it governed by foreigners…”

“There you go again!” the donkey snapped, “You claim you’re doing this for us donkeys, and zebras, and the buffalo, but you don’t understand how we view the situation! What the hay do you mean ‘our lands’? Have you even talked to a buffalo? They don’t believe in owning the land!”

“Wait, then why were they upset with the ponies for taking it?” Garble furrowed his brow, struggling to understand such a concept. His understanding of property and ownership was shallow at best.

“They were upset with the ponies because the ponies tried to own the land,” Ember explained, “and they made peace with the ponies because they agreed to share the land, as nature intended. To the buffalo, one cannot own the land any more than one can own the sky or the ocean.”

“We can own whatever we want!” Garble snapped, eyes darkening, “How could you be the Dragon Lord? You don’t even follow our ways…”

“What gives you the right to own land anyway?” Gabby frowned, “I mean, I know griffons took land from non-griffons, too. What makes you any better than the ponies, then?”

“We earned those lands,” Grigori growled out, “We earned them through right of conquest!”

“Might make right!” a yak warrior bellowed, and the others cheered.

“We can own it all!” Garble snarled.

A sudden cacophony of prideful greed and hypocritical lust for resources was so loud, so out-of-the-blue, that Gabby flinched back, and even Ember and Rutherford took a backwards step. The pacifists braced themselves for a fight. All at once, things spun out of control and Pharynx found himself watching the Orduud turn on itself. Yaks charged their herd-mates, griffons dueled in the skies, and dragons unleashed flames upon masses with abandon.

“I command you to cease!” Ember roared, her command over the dragons absolute. They stopped fighting as one, and the tide suddenly turned in the pacifists’ favor.

Pharynx watched as Rutherford’s yaks bulldozed their way through the warmongering yaks, knocking them aside. Gabby dueled with the other griffons, showing a skill at combat that made the changeling do a double-take. She effortlessly disarmed her opponents in nonlethal strikes, and managed to find time to apologize to each of her defeated foes as they fell. The pacifist dragons aided their comrades, and Pharynx panicked.

“Pharynx!” Ember called out to him, “Surrender! We’ll show leniency; you got wrapped up in Grigori’s scheme like everyone else! Just come down and we can rebuild the Triumvirate, rebuild the Orduud! We can start over!”

Pharynx felt his heart twist at the sincerity and near-desperation in her voice. He could appreciate why his brother was so smitten with the Dragon Lord. Still, the word surrender triggered his rage, and the prospect of returning to the bureaucratic nightmare of endless debates and administration was more frightening than being imprisoned or martyred. No, he would rather go down with this failed endeavor. He blinked as he found a way that, perhaps, would save the endeavor.

He descended towards Ember’s position, slow enough that she thought he was surrendering. As soon as her guard dropped, a smile of relief on her lips, however...

Ember tensed, seeing Pharynx dive quickly and speed towards her. She was too late, though, too unsuspecting. The changeling king slammed into her, knocking the wind from her lungs and ripping the Dragon Lord scepter from her grip. Before she could collect herself, Pharynx flew into the sky with the scepter in his jaws.

“No!” Ember cried, horrified, while Grigori cackled from his prison.

Pharynx descended again, throwing the scepter into the claws of Garble. Immediately the spell was lifted. The warmongering dragons, far outnumbering the pacifist ones present, rejoined the battle. The warmongers rallied from this reinforcement, and the pacifists fell back, terrified by this sudden change in fortunes. Within minutes they were surrounded, forced into a tight cluster, their numbers heavily reduced. Ember was still on her hands and knees, face frozen in horror. Rutherford belted a war cry and charged Garble. They wrestled back and forth, their musculature bulging as they screamed into the other’s face. The contest ended when the dragon wrapped his arms around the prince’s back, lifted him off the ground, and with great effort, squeezed tight.

A loud crack filled the air, eliciting cries of horror from the pacifists, and downcast looks of shame from many of the yaks in the warmonger camp. Garble laughed, lifting Rutherford over his head and tossing him back at the group of pacifists. The prince groaned, unable to defend himself as the dragon inhaled, fire igniting deep in his gullet. Garble prepared to incinerate his opponent, his eyes having become reptilian slits in a sinisterly dark hue. He was about to exhale when Gabby flew between them, shielding the yak with her body. Surprised, Garble turned his head at the last instant and unleashed a massive wash of flame harmlessly into the sky.

“What the-?!” he choked, his eyes returning to normal as shock overrode his darker impulses, “Are you stupid or something?! I nearly roasted you!”

“I’m sorry, but you’re a jerk!” Gabby snapped, “You didn’t have to hurt Prince Rutherford like you did, and you certainly didn’t need to set him on fire!”

“Listen, you dumb chick,” Garble scowled, “this is a battle, and he’s an enemy. I did what I had to.”

“You did way more than you had to,” Gabby muttered, darkly, “You’ve won, alright? There’s no need to go further…”

Garble glared at her, then scanned the tired, beaten mob of pacifists. They looked at him with hate, disappointment, and sorrow. The sight caused something to stir inside him, softening his expression, but he crushed it and growled. He glared witheringly at the griffon, his ego boosted by the Dragon Lord title he now held, but she glared back, unwavering. Without meaning to, he broke contact, unable to meet her gaze any longer. He spared a glance at Ember, who had joined Rutherford’s side, silent and grief-stricken.

“Whatever, we don’t have time for this!” Garble shook his head, “We need to get to Canterlot before tomorrow morning! Come on!”

The Orduud returned to their march, leaving the pacifists and their losses behind. Grigori chafed against his chains, growing worried.

“Wait, wait!” the older griffon looked terrified, clutching at Pharynx as he passed, “What about me?!”

“What about you?” the changeling king shrugged off the griffon’s grip, “You didn’t join us, or fight. All you did was cause this whole situation! Worse, you allowed yourself to get captured. You can stay in chains as far as I care.”

With that Pharynx flew into the ranks of the griffons and dragons, shapeshifting into a griffon. He grimaced beneath his false face, though. He hadn’t agreed with Rutherford, but… the young yak prince certainly didn’t deserve that. Perhaps once they conquered Equestria they could get the doctors of the nation to treat him? Ponies were the most advanced at a variety of medicine, from scientific cures to occult remedies. Still, would fixing his back really erase their betrayal?
Pharynx knew it wouldn’t.


…


Spike convulsed slightly, his spines flexing and drawing the attention of his friend. The magician raised an eyebrow before returning to looking at her cards.

“Trixie has just realized,” the blue mare noted, placing her cards on the table, “…poker is dreadfully dull when only two are playing,” her expression turned to one of worry when she noticed Spike’s continued discomfort, “Are you alright?”

“I’m not sure…” the dragon confessed, “I can’t explain why, but my scales ache. I haven’t felt like this since the last time the dragons were called, and yet this time it’s different.”

“Maybe it’s that puberty thing you mentioned earlier,” the magician muttered, scowling once Spike placed his cards and won the round, “Shouldn’t you be excited to get your wings?”

“I don’t think so,” Spike shook his head, “Cinder Crisp says that’s supposed to feel like itching and burning; this feels like… like when Ember became the Dragon Lord.”

“So?” Trixie sighed, shuffling the deck.

“So…” Spike shrugged, “I’m not sure. It could mean there’s a new Dragon Lord, or maybe she’s become some kind of… other leader.”

“Huh,” the magician mumbled, disinterestedly, “that Thursday thing you keep yammering about?”

“Thurdojun,” Spike corrected, glaring at the unicorn.

“Gesundheit,” Trixie replied, dealing out the cards.

“I see ignoring me is something you and Twilight have in common,” the dragon muttered under his breath.

“Sorry,” Trixie looked at him, her voice sincere, “I’m not… good at this friendship thing, yet. Starlight was literally my – I mean – Trixie’s first friend. If it helps, Trixie isn’t too thrilled with Twilight ignoring her, either.”

“It’s hard on all of us,” Spike said, noncommittally, “Starlight probably feels like she needs some guidance now, what with being a new leader like Twilight was. She’s always looked to Twilight for mentorship before…”

“Have you spoken to her?” Trixie asked, dealing out the cards, “Trixie knows you two were close for a while; it seems odd for both of you to suddenly stop.”

“I haven’t,” the dragon confessed, “I don’t want to go to the mansion.”

“Spike, you can’t keep avoiding Starlight because of your silly romantic troubles,” Trixie snorted.

“It’s not her I’m trying to avoid…”

The magician looked at him, eyes widening as she pieced that together. So, the relationship between the dragon and the farm-filly was already falling apart? The magician found that impressive. Hadn’t they only been dating a week? Less than a week? Hadn’t they only been on one or two dates? Trixie knew that the differences in views had been a problem. Spike had, for whatever reason, taken to Trixie for dumping emotional baggage on and seeking advice. While it secretly made her day, the magician wondered why exactly the dragon turned to her for life advice, considering her life was so derailed.

“It’s not your crush on Starlight ruining things with Apple Bloom, is it?” she asked, pretending to be more focused on the card game rather than the dragon towering over her across the table.

“I honestly think…” he frowned, “I honestly think I’m over that crush, too. I’m just not interested in a relationship at all at this point. I’ve got so many other things I’m worried about, and even though we haven’t dated long, my time with Apple Bloom has made me realize I’m just not ready for a relationship.”

“Wow,” Trixie couldn’t pretend to be distracted once she heard that, “that’s… astoundingly mature.”

“I think my sudden growth spurts have something to do with that,” Spike grunted, “something about changing brain chemistry in relation to my physical growth…? Cinder Crisp mentioned it.”

“Is it normal for a dragon to be so large without wings?” Trixie asked.

“I don’t think it’s normal for a dragon to grow so quickly without acquiring treasure,” Spike confessed, “I don’t think any of this is normal. I won’t know until I talk to actual dragons, but… well, y’know.”

“Yeah,” the magician sighed, “I hear you’re going to Ponyville in a few weeks?”

“Apple Bloom wants to visit her family – so does Flim,” the dragon chuckled, “Would you like to come along? If we both go, maybe we can convince Starlight to do, like, a diplomatic mission to Ponyville or something. She needs to get away for a little bit.”

“For someone who no longer has a crush, you sure worry about her a lot,” Trixie snorted in humor, “Spike, Starlight might be stressed, but she’s actually happy and excited by her job. Is Trixie upset Starlight isn’t spending as much time with her? Yes, but at least she is happy.”

“I just hate that Starlight – who I had a crush on – and Apple Bloom – who I’m in a relationship with – are so absorbed by this thing,” Spike confessed, “And… then there’s the other ponies.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Trixie groaned, “I know! All they do is go on and on about politics!”

“I meant more how they’ve been treating me lately,” Spike said, quietly.

“What?” the magician’s head snapped up, surprised and then scowling, “How have they been treating you?”

“Like a dragon,” Spike fumed, smoke leaking from his nostrils as his anger built, “I thought everyone ignoring me or looking at me like a kid brother or pet was bad! Now the ponies glare at me wherever I go, and the few businesses I can squeeze into refuse to serve me! They look at me like I’m a monster, and they say things behind my back when they know I can hear them! It’s infuriating!”

“If Trixie were you, she’d just roast those fools,” the magician snapped, then frowned, thinking that advice over, “Er… don’t tell Twilight I suggested that.”

“It’s probably the best advice I’ve gotten in a while,” Spike chuckled, calming down, “I suppose I shouldn’t do that, huh?”

“Probably wouldn’t help ponies’ views on dragons,” Trixie agreed, “Maybe… maybe you should take a vacation to the Dragon Lands, instead.”

“What?” Spike blinked.

“Well, something’s happening to you that no pony has answers for,” the mare shrugged, “and this Order or whatever they’re called are supposed to be inclusive, while around here all you’re getting are ponies judging you… Trixie isn’t saying you should leave because you don’t belong!”

“I understand that’s not what you meant,” the dragon smiled to show there was no insult taken, then frowned, “I’d feel bad leaving. I mean, I know Twilight isn’t talking to me, and my relationship with Apple Bloom is dying, and everything else, but to just leave before any of that’s resolved feels… wrong.”

“Perhaps you should hold off until your visit with Twilight, then?” Trixie suggested, then smiled, “Who knows? Maybe every pony will have calmed down by then. And yes, this time I mean only the ponies. See? Trixie does pay attention.”

Spike laughed at that until Trixie revealed her hand, beating his own.

“You’re surprisingly dexterous with those claws,” the magician noted as she reshuffled the deck, “They’re nearly as thick as Trixie’s hooves. How can you even manage the cards?”

“I could ask the same things about ponies’ hooves,” the dragon noted, “Seriously, it never made sense to me how you can grip something with hooves.”

“I don’t know,” Trixie shrugged while mumbling, “Passive magic?”

“Are you going to attend the Nightmare Night festivities?”

“Are you nuts?!” the mare gaped, “Trixie tried to put on a show for these hoof-draggers and she was nearly arrested! Something about costumes being banned…”

“What do you mean?” Spike furrowed his brow.

“The Royal Guard, or whatever the hay they want to call themselves now, were arresting foals for wearing costumes. It took Trixie twenty minutes to explain she was wearing what she always wears!”

“That’s terrible!”

“It’s actually quite comfortable,” Trixie frowned, feeling her cape, “These are probably the most expensive things I own, truth be told.”

“I meant the foals getting arrested,” the dragon tsked, “your outfit is fine.”

“Aw, aren’t you sweet?” Trixie joked, “Anyway, Trixie folds. She would like some alone time to practice her magic.”

“I thought you liked performing for artists?” Spike smirked.

“Very funny,” Trixie deadpanned, “Trixie wishes to practice real magic, and others being around makes her… tense.”

“Alright, I get it,” Spike sighed, “Where to go next…?”

“The only other pony you mentioned who isn’t distracted by politics?” the magician pointed out, “The orange one. Scooter, or something.”

“You know who Scootaloo is,” Spike scowled.

“Yes, but Trixie must keep up images of being unmindful of others,” Trixie grinned, “Wouldn’t want anyone thinking she’s gone soft, after all.”

Spike chuckled as he lifted himself up from the table she had set up outside the city proper. Aside from the abandoned warehouse Starlight had cleaned up for him, there were very few areas in the city that allowed for his larger size. Fortunately, he felt his growth nearing its limit. He knew he’d grow larger still – he had grown far larger than his current state, during his greed incident, after all – but somehow he knew that his current growth cycle was ending. Perhaps it was linked to his personal achievement, like Twilight suggested. If that were the case, then it was just one more reason he should return to the Dragon Lands

After Ponyville, of course.

The dragon set out to look for Scootaloo, which wasn’t difficult since only one fruit vendor in Canterlot claimed to have the fastest delivery pegasus on a scooter. The dragon maneuvered his way through the streets, ignoring the glares from the ponies. The store, like nearly every building in Canterlot that day, was draped in Equestrian flags and posters. Most of the posters depicted tragic scenes of Luna’s madness and betrayal, painting Celestia as a pious ruler who did what had to be done. The dragon wasn’t sure how to read into them. They weren’t exactly false, but they seemed to paint the whole situation in a very slanted fashion.

“So you’re that dragon Scootaloo keeps going on about, eh?” the shopkeeper greeted as he exited the shop, raising an eyebrow. Unlike most of the ponies in Canterlot, the shopkeeper seemed largely uninterested in Spike. “I don’t understand mares and fillies these days. What’s with the dragon obsession, anyway? Bah, it’s not worth thinking about. You come here to buy fruit or to see your filly-friend?”

“Scootaloo isn’t my filly-friend,” Spike corrected, “Apple Bloom is.”

“Her farm friend?” the shopkeeper looked genuinely surprised, “Weird, she never mentioned it. Figured something like that would have come up with how much she talks about you and the others, but I guess it’s only been a day or two.”

“Why would you think we were dating?” the dragon asked.

“You’re the only guy she talks about,” the shopkeeper shrugged.

“Probably because I’m the only guy from Ponyville that came here,” Spike chuckled, “Well, except for Big Mac.”

“Meh,” the shopkeeper gave a noncommittal noise, “Scootaloo’s finishing a rather large series of deliveries this morning. Once she’s done, I’ve given her the rest of the day off to enjoy the holiday. Some law or another’s keeping ponies from dressing up and going door-to-door for snacks, so my sales are down anyway.”

“If sales are down because of the law, where is she delivering to?” Spike asked.

“To a royal banquet or some such,” the shopkeeper explained, “Celestia has ordered a lot of fruit to be delivered to the castle and to that weird wooden statue in the center of town.”

“Wooden statue?” the dragon asked, drawing to his full height to look over the smaller shops and down the street towards the center of the city. Sure enough there was some sort of pony-shaped structure being made out of wood. “Weird. Any idea what it’s for?”

“No clue,” the shopkeeper grunted, “My best guess it’s some kinda statue of Nightmare Moon? Y’know, since Canterlot doesn’t have one. A lot of small towns like to pay tribute to statues of her, don’t they?”

“Ponyville does,” Spike nodded, “Makes sense. I guess they’re making it out of wood because they don’t have time to make one out of stone?”

Again the shopkeeper only grunted.

“You gonna buy something in the meantime, or drive away more business?” he asked.

The dragon produced a small pouch of bits and got himself a small crate of various fruits to snack on while he waited for Scootaloo to finish her deliveries. How was the little pegasus doing, he wondered? It sounded like a big delivery, and while he was sure she could handle it, each of his friends – and of course, himself – had suffered confidence issues under pressure. This was her first job, and with nothing else to occupy his mind, he found himself worrying for her. He shook his head, chuckling to himself.

He was overthinking things.


…


The pegasus zipped through the streets of Canterlot, ducking weaving between ponies and carts, her wings straining to pull the massive cart behind her through the streets. It had been even more challenging with the second cart attached behind that one, but thankfully the shop was near the town square, so she hadn’t had to lug that one long. Now all she had to do was make it to the castle without losing the product. A relatively-easy feat, all things considered.

She was there in a matter of minutes, well-ahead of schedule. Looking back at the cart she was pleased to see all the assorted crates were still closed tight and in-place. An Imperial Guard approached her, signed the required paperwork, and took the cart off her hooves. Stretching her tired wings for her final rush back to the store, Scootaloo took off after a few flexes. Rainbow Dash would be so proud of her speed and efficiency! Without either cart, she’d be able to reach the store and turn in her paperwork in a matter of-

Scootaloo slammed her hoof into the cobblestones to brake her speed. Down the street, waiting in front of the fruit shop was the dragon she wasn’t ready to get engaged to.

Engage with! She had meant engage with!

It wasn’t as if she cared about him being a dragon and thought her emotions were wrong, or that she was concerned her attraction was purely some sort of dragon-fetish. No, her concern was squarely on the fact that one of her closest and dearest friends was in a relationship with the aforementioned dragon. Scootaloo couldn’t help but remember when Sweetie Belle had confessed her crush on Rumble. That had hurt a great deal, even though Scootaloo herself had never so much as made a move on the colt. If Scootaloo spent too much time with Spike, she might let something slip and Apple Bloom would find out, then that’d really put a kink in their friendship. It was bad enough in the Rumble situation, but in this situation, Apple Bloom was already dating their mutual crush!

Privately, Scootaloo also worried about her self-control failing. Honestly, she hadn’t been able to get the dragon out of her head since their talk the day before, and she had been arguing internally on whether or not she should interfere in their relationship. It was weird how love – or perhaps some teen lust? – could make a creature behave; she could almost convince herself that sabotaging her best friend’s relationship was somehow the right course of action. Even now, even thinking of how wrong it was, the pegasus contemplated the pros and cons. She spent more time with Spike than anyone else in Canterlot, and they shared many of the same views. Sure, they didn’t share many interests or skills, but Scootaloo thought that made them even more compatible-

What was she thinking?!

Swallowing her trepidation and forcing the thoughts from her head, she approached the store and the dragon, paperwork already in her muzzle. Before the dragon could even finish his greeting, she mumbled around the clipboard in her mouth and hurried inside, eager to get away from him but not wanting to be rude. It was highly suspicious, considering the fact her boss was outside with Spike, but he only went in after her.

“There a reason you just sat in the street for half a minute gawking at that kid?” the shopkeeper asked, almost bored, “I mean, I know he’s a dragon, but you already knew that, so what’s the deal?”

“S-sorry boss!” Scootaloo handed him the clipboard, “I just… remembered what he was like before his growth spurt, and it’s mind-blowing, y’know?”

“Considering I just met him, not really,” the shopkeeper muttered, checking the paperwork, “Alright, everything looks good. You’re free for the rest of the day, kid.”

“Er…” Scootaloo’s eyes darted to the dragon outside, “Are you sure you don’t need me to do anything else?”

“Are you kidding me?” her boss actually chuckled at the idea, “I’ve already cleaned and re-cleaned this place, and done stock. It’s been dead since yesterday. Just go hang out with your colt-friend, or whatever you call a dragon.”

“H-he’s dating Apple Bloom!” Scootaloo exclaimed, blushing vividly.

The shopkeeper whistled, “Oh, you have it bad, don’t you? Don’t worry. Just keep a cool head, don’t make any passes, and in a few days you’ll be back to normal with him.”

“S-so you think this is… temporary?” the pegasus asked, calming down at the idea.

“The freaking out part, yeah,” the shopkeeper smirked, “The having a crush on your best friend’s colt-friend? Not so much. That could be temporary, or maybe it’s Special Some-Pony-ship and it’ll haunt you until you die.”

“That’s not funny, boss,” Scootaloo grimaced.

“Do I look like a clown to you?” the shopkeeper asked, dryly, “Now get out of here so I can close up. You think I want to waste my time here during the holiday?”

Scootaloo sighed loudly before trudging outside and forcing a friendly smile on her face. Spike looked down at her, his mouth splitting into a toothy grin of his own. Scootaloo was surprised she could remain so calm when faced with so many sharp teeth in a maw large enough to swallow her whole, but then again, it was Spike. Somehow, unlike her friends who seemed impressed with his changes, Scootaloo couldn’t help but see Spike at the center of it all. His appearance was meaningless; she found him equally-attractive in either form.

…Which is to say she didn’t really find him attractive at all until yesterday. Ugh, the whole situation was becoming a headache already.

“Hey Scoots,” Spike greeted in his new, deep voice, “Are you finally free?”

“Oh, you know it,” Scootaloo chuckled weakly, “I take it you don’t have plans for Nightmare Night, huh?”

“Not really,” Spike shrugged, “Trixie got bored playing poker, Apple Bloom and Starlight are busy running the Lunar Republic, Big Mac has been acting really weird lately, and… well, I’ve never really liked hanging out with Flim or Flam.”

“Are you sure?” Scootaloo perked up at the possibility of getting out of dealing with him, “Maybe you should try and get to know them better?”

“Even if I wanted to,” Spike chuckled, “Flim is just as busy with the Lunar Republic, and Flam hasn’t left Celestia’s side in a while. I don’t think anybody’s seen him.”

“H-how strange,” Scootaloo said, eye twitching at her one hope disintegrating. Of course those twins would prove unreliable…

“Do you not want to hang out?” the dragon asked, looking a little hurt at the idea.

“Are you crazy?!” Scootaloo said hurriedly, more afraid of offending Spike than giving away her feelings, “I’d sooner give up my scooter than not hang out with you!”

They looked at each other, equally-surprised by the sentiment. Scootaloo’s scooter was her life; it was as important to her as a unicorn’s magic or a pegasus’ wings. Even as a joke, such a statement carried a lot of weight.

“So what did you want to do?” she asked quickly to cover up her near-blunder.

“I’m not sure,” Spike sighed, “Usually I dress up and enjoy the festivities, but Celestia banned costumes and I’m not sure what else she changed.”

“She banned costumes?” the pegasus blinked, “I guess I lucked out forgetting to make one this year.”

“I couldn’t wear one, anyway,” the dragon scratched the scales of his chin, “anything I would have planned by now I would have outgrown.”

“I guess we can just walk around the city and look at the sights,” Scootaloo shrugged, “I mean, these posters are kinda off-putting, but maybe the other decorations will be cooler.”

“I hope so,” Spike admitted, “Do you have any idea what the giant statue is supposed to be?”

“The what?” the pegasus raised an eyebrow, “Oh, that wooden thing in the center of town? No idea.”

“I guess we’ll find out whenever they finish then,” Spike sighed, “It’s hard to believe the Lunar Republic’s only been around for three days. Feels like it’s been forever.”

“That was random,” the filly snorted, “I thought we hung out because we don’t talk politics?”

“So you disagree?” the dragon turned his head to face her on his serpentine neck.

“I never said that,” Scootaloo chuckled, “Actually, it feels like we’ve been here for a year, at least. How long has it really been? I don’t think it’s even been half a month.”

“A lot has happened in such a short time,” Spike nodded, “I wonder how much will change before things finally slow down.”

“That’s assuming things ever slow down,” Scootaloo noted, “I mean, if the Lunar Republic is progress, that means Equestria’s been at a standstill for a thousand years. That’s a lot of time to catch up on.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Spike muttered, “I don’t mind change, but it’ll be weird to come home from the Dragon Lands after all of that.”

“You’re going to the Dragon Lands?” Scootaloo gaped, “For how long?”

“A few months,” the dragon shrugged his massive shoulders, “Maybe years. Who knows?”

“And Apple Bloom is fine with this?” the pegasus pressed.

“She doesn’t know,” Spike said, “yet. I haven’t figured it all out yet, but I need to go. Not now, but… soon. A few months, at most.”

Scootaloo contemplated this, weighing courses of action and their potential repercussions.

“Can I come with you?” she asked at last.

“Seriously?” Spike chuckled, “Scoots, it’s not like the Dragon Lands are the safest place for ponies right now.”

“With a big dragon like you to protect me, I should be safe, right?” Scootaloo smirked, “I mean, since you don’t think I can handle myself.”

“Okay, I wasn’t implying that…” the dragon blushed, knowing full well never to underestimate the martial ability of mares, “Still, I’d be there awhile, maybe even a long while. Are you sure that’s alright with your parents?”

“I’ll just secede like Fluttershy did,” Scootaloo waved a hoof.

“You main claim emancipation?” Spike sighed, “I mean, you could – you’re almost an adult by Ponyville law. I’m not sure if Celestia’s enforcing a universal age, yet…”

“I take care of myself, anyway,” the pegasus pointed out, “Look, it has nothing to do with my parents if that’s what you think. It has to do with how things are going here. I don’t feel safe, not picking a side. Every pony’s flipping their lids! I’d feel safer in the Dragon Lands, and it’s a place I’ve never been to, and… and…”

She trailed off, not sure if she wanted to end that sentence.

“…and?” Spike prompted.

“…and I don’t want to stay in Equestria if you’re not here,” she confessed, trying to look nonchalant but only succeeding at blushing and scowling simultaneously, “You’re the only friend I have left that isn’t obsessing over the Republic or the Empire, and the only friend that doesn’t give me dirty looks for not picking a side. Do you know how that feels to have your closest friends judge you for something like that? To watch them quit talking to each other over something like this?”

“Yeah,” Spike sighed, thinking back to Twilight and the others, “I mean, I can’t stop you, and I would enjoy the company. Plus, now that I’m so large, I’m not as worried about bullies like Garble.”

“Plus you’re friends with the Dragon Lord,” Scootaloo added with a smile.

“Maybe,” Spike muttered, then changed subjects, “Did you want to get some lunch?”

“Didn’t you just eat a crate of fruit?”

“I have a higher metabolism to keep up now,” the dragon chortled, deeply.

“Fair enough,” the pegasus joined in the laughter, “You’re paying, right?”

“You’re the one with the job.”

They continued their tit-for-tat as they made their way to the dining district of Canterlot, trying to keep their eyes away from the somber posters and oppressive banners decorating the buildings.


…


Twilight Sparkle trotted through Ponyville, pleased with the improving relations of her subjects. While repairing the damages from the riots, the Princess had taken the time to listen to the towns-ponies fears and, through meticulous planning and diplomacy, she had devised a compromise between the two extremes. In essence, all she had done was allow the creation of a town council to allow every pony the opportunity to have a voice in government. It all conformed to Celestia’s laws, and the towns-ponies trusted her to be fair and just in her decision-making.

Now they were all working together again at midday, helping Pinkie Pie set up for a massive party she had planned virtually overnight. That wasn’t entirely fair, Twilight thought; Pinkie had planned a large Nightmare Night celebration anyway, and had made some plans to celebrate the Lunar Republic’s creation, but these plans had evolved and merged with a new cause to celebrate: the mending of broken friendships. Twilight had woken up, half-expecting her cutie mark to start glowing at such a success, but the Map still gave no sign of life.

Worse, it seemed to be decaying…

She threw every ounce of her spare time into the Map, but received no answers. She was almost desperate enough to take Discord up on his offer to change it into a fondue machine, but fortunately the chaotic spirit was hiding himself and Fluttershy. There was nothing for it, so for Nightmare Night at least, the Princess of Friendship promised herself not to stress over what was beyond her power to fix. At least for the holiday, she would spend the time with her friends and her subjects, raising spirits and building bridges.

“Hi Twilight!” Pinkie shouted right next to her, having seemingly appeared from nowhere in true Pinkie Pie fashion.

“Hey, Pinkie,” Twilight replied, smiling in spite of the ringing in her ear, “You seem much happier today!”

“How could I not be?” the pink pony grinned, “Every pony is talking again! I mean, they’re still talking politics sometimes, but they’re so civil about it, now! You’re a miracle worker, Twilight.”

“I-I didn’t do anything,” Twilight blushed at the idea Pinkie would think her personally responsible for the improvements, “It was thanks mostly to your parties and all the good memories you’ve helped create over the years.”

“Oh, darling, don’t be so modest!” Rarity giggled as she approached with the rest of their friends, “Pinkie Pie certainly did her part, but it was your leadership that helped us all see beyond our differences in opinion.”

“We’d still be at each other’s throats if it wasn’t for you,” Applejack agreed.

“I was at your throats, too, if I recall,” Twilight smiled sadly, “There’s so much more I could have done…”

“Water under the bridge, Twi,” Rainbow Dash assured her, “I mean, if we can look past my mistakes – not that I make any – then we can look past yours.”

“Thanks,” Twilight deadpanned, but couldn’t help smirking at her friend.

“Sorry I’m late,” Fluttershy said from beside Twilight. The Princess yelped in shock, reeling back at the pegasus’ sudden appearance. “Oh! Sorry.”

“How did you-?” the alicorn began, before sighing, “Discord?”

“Discord,” Fluttershy nodded, “I’m sorry, Twilight, but you know how much he likes getting a rise out of you.”

“Oh, believe me,” Twilight gave a taut smile, “I’m well-aware.”

“Ain’t he joining us for Nightmare Night?” Applejack asked.

“He’s trying to solve a problem about it, actually,” the pegasus said, “You see, he wants all of us to celebrate it together, but a lot of his friends are in Canterlot. I told him it’s okay to celebrate holidays apart, but he just kept talking about bending the fabric of reality so two points can exist in the same space…”

“Is he insane?!” Twilight gaped, then held up a hoof, “Don’t answer that. Can you take me to him? He could-”

“Destroy the universe?” the draconequues’ voice popped up behind her, eliciting another yelp which he chuckled at, “Believe me, I came to the same conclusion, no matter how many times I ran the numbers!”

“I’m not hearing you say you won’t do it…” Twilight noted.

“I won’t do it,” Discord scowled, “Do you want me to Pinkie Promise, too, or is that sufficient?”

“I trust you,” Twilight smiled warmly, “Now, Pinkie what do you have planned for us… tonight… Pinkie, are you okay?”
The pink mare in question was an even greater jittery mess than usual, her frizzy mane and tail violently standing on end and her eyes wide in fear. All her friends looked at her in concern, even Discord. None of them had ever seen such a reaction from her before.

“What’s wrong, dear?” Rarity asked, and this time Pinkie snapped out of her trance a little.

“M-my Pinkie Sense is going insane!” Pinkie explained, managing to regain more self-control, “I’ve never felt something so bad before! It’s like something super-duper big is about to hit everyone in Ponyville!”

Before Twilight could ask for more information she felt a deep rumbling in the ground and saw the sky begin to darken. She looked briefly at Discord, but the draconequues was distracted looking at the cloud that was blotting out the sun. Twilight focused on it, wondering what sort of thing could cause an earthquake and an unseasonable storm at the same time. She recoiled in horror.

The cloud was a wall of dust sent skyward by the tramping of a hundred sets of heavy hooves, spread about by the beats of a hundred pairs of wings. Out of the northwest, a horde of yaks and griffons was approaching at great speed. Over the thunder of their approach, Twilight and her friends could just begin to hear the war cries of what was obviously an Orduud army attacking them.

“Are they insane?!” Rainbow gaped, filled with dread over the suspicious arrival of Gilda only a day earlier, “They have to know this will start a war, right?!”

“I fear the war’s already begun…” Discord said, uncharacteristically somber.

The towns-ponies were beginning to panic, except Bonbon who never seemed perturbed by monsters or villains attacking Ponyville. Twilight looked at her friends, pleased that all six of them were united. She stood tall, wings flared.
“Girls, let’s do what we do best!” she declared before rearing on her hind legs, using the Royal Voice to amplify her volume, “Citizens of Ponyville, rally! We worked hard to repair our town! Let’s not let these bullies ruin our hard work!”

As the Elements of Harmony galloped towards the approaching army, many of the towns-ponies exchanged uneasy looks, wondering what to do. Bonbon wasted no time in following the Princess, a stunned Lyra following closely. Vinyl Scratch, Derpy, and others quickly joined in, their less-aggressive friends following more out of concern for their compadres than eagerness to fight. Soon nearly the entire adult population of Ponyville was behind the Elements, and Twilight briefly felt a wave of pride that can only come when a leader literally leads her people in a valiant cause.

And what could be more valiant a cause than defending one’s home and neighbors?
> 22
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------


22


Nightmare Night, Afternoon

Celestia looked out from her balcony to glare down at her subjects milling about in the streets of Canterlot. They had heads lowered in fear-
In respect, she corrected herself. Was it truly herself? It had become difficult to distinguish one voice from another in her mind. They both wanted the same thing, in a manner of speaking. If one twisted the words and believed the cost could be ignored. The thought of cost got her thinking of Flam, wherever he was. Was he doing alright? Better still, was he doing his job? What was his job again?
“Aunt Tia?” Cadance’s voice cut through her the older alicorn’s turmoil, “Did you want to spend some time together? Perhaps over lunch?”
“Where is your husband?” Celestia asked, “And Flurry Heart, and her caretaker?”
“They were all exhausted from the overnight train ride,” Cadance explained, “They’re sleeping until this evening so they won’t be too tired for the festivities you have planned.”
“Sleeping in the daytime?” Celestia seethed, “Heresy… I thought only thestrals and vermin did that.”
“Would you prefer they pass out?” Cadance asked, slightly exasperated.
Celestia felt her fury flare up at such casual insolence, but she fought it. It would help no one if she lost her temper, lost control of her physical form, right then and there. It certainly wouldn’t help if she drove away the mother of Flurry Heart, who seemed somehow tied to coming events. No, the regents of the Crystal Empire, especially, could not be turned against her...
“You are right, I suppose,” she confessed, forcing an abashed smile to her face, “I apologize. Everything that has happened lately has me rather easy to offend. I shouldn’t take it out on you or your friends. Or family.”
“Do you not like that I married Shining?” Cadance pressed, “You were so supportive of our love…”
“Of course I like him,” Celestia lied. Was it a lie? She wasn’t sure anymore, “Any pony who earns your affection is surely worthy of it. After all, aren’t you the expert on that?”
Cadance eyed her aunt a moment longer before finally relaxing. She started giggling.
“Look at me,” she said, “I’m becoming wound up and paranoid and it has hardly been a day! No wonder you’ve been so tense; the atmosphere in Canterlot has become so charged with intrigue.”
“Exactly,” the Empress giggled, a bit to forcibly. Looking to change the subject, she looked at the sun. “I should make sure that all is prepared for tonight. The sun is already past its zenith, and you know how quickly daylight fades this time of year. I want the festivities to begin as the sun begins to set.”
“That will be soon,” Cadance agreed, “Shining should have no problem waking up. He was a soldier, after all, and – more taxing – the father to Flurry Heart. I’m not sure how well Sunburst will fare, but he was very excited to be in Canterlot again.”
“Again?” Celestia asked, then thought back, “Ah yes… he washed out of my unicorn school…” Seeing the slight offense in her niece’s look, Celestia rolled her eyes. “I mean, he lacked strength in magic, but is a brilliant scholar. I imagine he and Starswirl would have gotten along great.”
Cadance smiled again, and Celestia silently hoped she could keep her niece from being offended again. Everything had to go smoothly for the plan. Was there a plan? It was difficult to tell anymore. The Empress looked back out upon her city, feeling a strange mixture of emotions that made her feel more in a dream than anything else. Something tickled at her mind, something smacking of a warning or premonition of events to come, but she refused to acknowledge them. Her last few scrying efforts had shown her visions of defeat at the hands of any number of foes: Discord, her sister, a reborn Sombra, a changed queen, a massive dragon, an ascendant alicorn, her faithful student, or even the hooves of her ensnared subjects. The paranoia born from these constant defeatist visions justified her increasing security as well as her avoidance of any character she deemed suspect.
Which of course was all of them.
She watched the sun move lower, now noticeably past its zenith. After tonight, her subjects would associate the Lunar Republic with treason.
“It’s a pity Twilight couldn’t join us,” the older of the two mares stated, “I was rather hoping she’d be here.”
“I wish she were here, too,” Cadance sighed, “but I have no way of communicating over such vast distances so quickly. I was surprised you could maintain such a powerful mode of communication with both of us for so long without effort.”
“My powers have grown…” Celestia muttered without thinking. She blinked, smiling as she turned to face her niece, “Over the centuries, I mean. In time, you may grow as powerful as I am now. And your daughter, well… she’ll outshine us both, I’m sure.”
Cadance smiled at the prospect of her daughter being a great alicorn. Celestia looked skyward again, but this time her mind was on Flurry Heart. An infant, yet immensely powerful. The only alicorn ever recorded to be born. If alicorns were indeed divine, that regular ponies earned such divinity through acts of greatness, then what did a born alicorn signify? A natural god? A true god? Such power could be useful to the Solar Empire. Even the mere belief that Flurry Heart was truly divine could prove useful. No, more than useful.
Faith, Celestia smiled at the thought, was a useful tool.

…

Apple Bloom stared at the envelope in her hooves. Aside from her brother and Sweetie Belle, she was the only one who got regular mail from her family. Scootaloo occasionally got letters from Rainbow Dash, but those were infrequent at best. Only once did Apple Bloom get mail from someone not related to her – her old friend, Twist – but that was it.
Until now.
She reread the name, just to make sure it hadn’t been her imagination. Tender Taps. It still seemed unreal. She opened the envelope, still not sure what to make of it. A photograph was in there and she smiled at it: a picture of Tender and the rest of their dance class, holding a banner that read “We Miss You!” across it. She felt something in her chest stir, a longing for the simpler times before she had become so invested in the political landscape of her nation. Then she noticed the letter sharing the envelope with the picture and pulled it out.
Dear Apple Bloom,
I wish you were here in Ponyville again. I think about you more than anything else. Our instructor says it’s starting to affect my routine, but I just can’t dance straight without you nearby, anymore. She said writing this all out might help, and I think she’s right. You’ve gone to Canterlot, and I hear you’re continuing your education out there. If that’s true, it could be years before I see you again – if I ever do. That got me thinking that I really, really want to see you again. I don’t want us to stop being in touch.
Love, Ignore that! I’m used to writing letters to family! Stupid pen…
Tender Taps
Apple Bloom shook her head and reread it. Then she reread it again just to make sure. With a smile, she reread it one more time just to savor it. She felt a new emotion blooming in her chest that felt uncomfortably familiar…
Shaking her head and paling in a sudden sense she had done something wrong, the filly placed the photo and letter in her copy of Starswirl’s Compendium of Compassion, which she hadn’t picked up since classes were cancelled. The book was still dear to her, so she was confident she wouldn’t stupidly misplace it – or its new contents.
There was no time for such trivial emotions! The Lunar Republic was trying to get together a Nightmare Night celebration of their own, and Apple Bloom was – naturally – one of the few members available to help organize. Starlight was swamped with paperwork, and most of the politicians and citizens were busy with trying to get their little army up off the ground. Only a relative handful in Canterlot were contributing to this sudden celebration. Apple Bloom sighed at the thought of Nightmare Night. For whatever reason, Celestia was pulling out all the stops for a grand festival in honor of the holiday, and – for whatever reason – the Lunar Republic felt honor-bound to try and match it.
There was no way the new nation could match the resources going into the party! And there was certainly no way they could match the horsepower, especially since Apple Bloom was the only pony coordinating things. She had taken a brief reprieve to check her mail, but now was the time to get back out there and help make a difference.
Apple Bloom trotted out of the Presidential Palace and towards the large gardens of the estate where they had decided to hold the party. The impromptu senate was still convening on the lawn, surrounded by a tent, but the rest of the gardens were open for a celebration. A handful of ponies the filly didn’t recognize were helping her organize festivities and construct a stage, but on such short notice things were difficult to accomplish. For instance, most of the shops were closed, so food and supplies were hard to come by. Fortunately, some caterers were open and willing to supply the party, and the wood for the stage was not too difficult to acquire. With the help of the thirteen other ponies, Apple Bloom was confident-
She blinked and recounted. There were now only ten other ponies.
“Hey, where’d the other three go?” she asked.
“Oh,” one of the volunteers tapped his chin as he thought back, “Uh, Minty got arrested for wearing a costume, and I guess the other two did, too, since they were also dressed up.”
“What the…?” the filly shook her head, “Wait, what was wrong with their costumes?”
“Celestia banned wearing costumes on Nightmare Night,” a mare spoke up from the snack table, “Something about it being a somber holiday to commemorate loss. Or betrayal?”
“That’s ridiculous!” Apple Bloom scoffed, “There’s centuries of tradition behind wearing costumes! She can’t just make it illegal right before the holiday! Did ponies even know about this?”
“I didn’t find out until Minty was tossed into the police cart,” the first pony shrugged.
“Why are you both so calm about this?” Apple Bloom demanded.
“We figured it was only a matter of time until Celestia found some reason to arrest us,” the mare noted dryly before muttering, “I just didn’t figure on it being about wearing costumes…”
Apple Bloom frowned at the idea before something else struck her.
“We forgot to send out invitations!” she exclaimed.
“We’ve already told all the Republic citizens living in Canterlot,” the stallion noted as he helped another pony with the lumber for the stage.
“Wait,” the mare at the snack table paused in her work to smirk over her shoulder at the filly, “don’t tell me you forgot to invite your colt-friend.”
“I’ve been a little busy helping govern a new nation,” Apple Bloom said through gritted teeth. She wasn’t so much angry with the mare’s comment as she was at her decaying relationship. Truth be told, she had forgotten to tell Spike, or any of her friends.
“We can handle this stuff, Apple Bloom,” the stallion smiled, “You left us pretty clear instructions. Why don’t you take the day off? I mean, you might be the Secretary of… something, but you are just a filly. You need vacations too, right?”
“I’m the Secretary of…!” Apple Bloom sighed, “Forget it. Maybe you’re right. I haven’t had much time off since the Republic was founded, and Starlight did tell me to take the day off, too…”
“Sounds like you have to, then,” the mare chuckled, “it being a presidential order and all.”
“I get it,” Apple Bloom giggled, “Alright, I’ll take some time off to find Spike and maybe my other friends.”
A chorus of catcalls followed the filly as she left. She blushed, wondering if maybe there had been a better way to word her sentence. She wasn’t sure if it was because these were city ponies or because they were simply treating her as an adult, but she wasn’t used to such behavior outside of her closest friends. Her, Scootaloo, and Sweetie Belle were certainly not above making inappropriate jokes and innuendoes when away from their supervisors.
Sweetie Belle was the worst.
Apple Bloom strolled around the city towards the warehouse, but naturally Spike wouldn’t stay cooped up all day. Finding it empty, the filly trotted to the only other place she knew where to look – Trixie’s wagon outside the city. When and how the magician had gotten the thing brought up to Canterlot from Ponyville was a mystery. Why she preferred living in the thing over the castle was an even bigger one.
Apple Bloom knocked briefly on the door and waited.
“Spike, Trixie told you she does not-” the unicorn opened the door, wearing her sleeping cap. She stopped when she saw Apple Bloom standing there. “Oh. You’re not Spike.”
“Mighty observant of you,” Apple Bloom giggled, “Were you sleeping?”
“And you call Trixie observant,” Trixie snipped back, “What do you need, kid?”
“Do you know where Spike went?” Apple Bloom asked, “We’re doing our own Nightmare Night, but I forgot to invite all my friends. I’ve just been so busy, and now I have the day off…”
“…and you want to spend it with the one you love, how romantic,” Trixie noted, dryly, though truth be told she had just woken from a dream about something similar, “He left here earlier this morning looking for that pegasus with the scooter.”
“You know who Scootaloo is,” Apple Bloom sighed. She felt a tinge of jealousy eat away at her. Some of it must have showed because the magician frowned.
“Is everything alright between you two?” Trixie asked, not clarifying if she meant Scootaloo or Spike.
“Everything’s fine,” Apple Bloom huffed, “Why…? Has Spike said anything?”
“Magicians never reveal their secrets,” Trixie smiled, but it was too wistful for the filly’s liking, “Let’s just say there’s a lot on his mind at the moment. What about things with your other friends? As far as Trixie can tell, Spike and Scootaloo are the only two of you that hang out anymore.”
“I have a lot of responsibilities now,” the former farmer stated, standing tall.
“You’re a filly, Apple Bloom,” Trixie laughed, richly, “Spend time with your drake-friend and forget this silly Republic stuff. You shouldn’t be bothering with so much responsibility at your age!”
“And you should be more responsible at your age!” Apple Bloom snapped back before she could reel in her temper. Trixie backed into her vardo as if slapped, but the filly pressed on. “Maybe if adults were more responsible and took the political situation of Equestria more seriously, we wouldn’t be in so much trouble all the time! If ponies your age took responsibility, fillies like me wouldn’t have to take on so much! The Republic only seems silly because it requires ponies to be more responsible, but that responsibility guarantees freedom! I will not be dictated to by tyrants!”
“What in Equestria are you going on about?” Trixie asked, confusion and hurt bleeding into her voice.
“My family has suffered poverty under Celestia’s leadership, and the Republic promises us a voice in government so no pony will ever have to suffer such conditions again,” Apple Bloom explained slowly, “The democratic system gives us a voice, gives power to ponies like me, but it has a cost: we have to be responsible. We take a share in the government, and it burns me up inside when ponies call the Republic silly! It’s only silly to you because you can’t even be responsible enough to take care of yourself!”
Finally, the filly clamped her mouth shut, ashamed she had voiced such thoughts. Where had they even come from? They seemed to have welled up from somewhere deep inside, released by repressed frustration and stress which had been mounting for weeks. Had she even slept more than a few hours each night with her new responsibilities? Besides her few dates with Spike, had she even enjoyed time off?
“I-I’m sorry, Trixie, I-” the filly began.
“Leave,” the magician’s voice was barely audible.
“Trixie, please-”
The magician’s horn glowed brightly and the filly feared the older mare might turn it against her. Instead, a flash of magic encircled the wagon, so bright it forced the filly to shield her eyes. When she opened them again, Trixie and her vardo were gone. Apple Bloom was astonished. Trixie had rarely been able to perform difficult spells like teleportation, and yet she had gone and made a sizeable object vanish.
At least, Apple Bloom hoped it was teleportation.
The filly sighed as she made her way back into town. That had been a disaster, but at least it couldn’t get any worse. Lifting her head up as she entered the city proper, she stopped in her tracks. Her blood ran cold as she realized that, yes, it could always get worse.
There was Spike, laughing as he posed for a painting. He was rearing on his hind legs, forelegs extended outwards and jaws open in a toothy grin. This alone was perfectly benign, but the detail that made Apple Bloom glower was that an orange-coated pegasus filly was draped around his broad shoulders, her forelegs wrapped around his thick neck, rosy-cheeked and laughing. Their laughter felt directed at her, though it was obvious they didn’t realize she was watching.
“So, is this how you spend your days when I’m not around?” Apple Bloom demanded as she came within earshot of the pair. The painter looked over his shoulder, then – sensing the tension – began quickly packing up his supplies. “I didn’t realize you and Scootaloo were so… close.”
“Hey, AB!” Spike greeted, completely oblivious despite the fact Scootaloo’s grip had tightened in anxiety, “I thought you were busy today?”
“Oh, is that why you were hanging out with her?” the yellow filly scoffed, “You just hang out with another filly anytime I’m not available?!”
“Well, yeah,” Spike shrugged.
“Spike!” Scootaloo hissed in his ear but her eyes were wide and locked to Apple Bloom.
“What?” the dragon snaked his neck around so he could look at the filly clinging to his neck, “Are you okay, Scoots? You look really pale all of a sudden.”
“It’s nice that you care so much for her health,” Apple Bloom said through gritted teeth, trying to suppress her temper. She had just made a mistake in her anger with another friend, and that had been uncalled for, but this… Was she not justified in being angry at this?!
“Apple Bloom, I can explain!” Scootaloo released Spike’s neck and landed in front of her friend, buzzing her wings to slow her fall. She opened her mouth, then looked over her shoulder and blushed at the dragon. “Can we… can we talk privately?”
The other filly narrowed her eyes, sparing a look at Spike. Inhaling to cool her head, she nodded once and followed Scootaloo into a shop. A request for privacy and a bit kept the shopkeeper from asking any questions as he showed them a secluded corner of the store where they could chat without risk.
“What is it?” Apple Bloom asked.
“First, I’d like to say Spike is completely loyal to you,” the pegasus explained, “He is not at fault. Don’t go off on him, okay?”
“…Okay…” the earth pony nodded once.
“Secondly… I might have a crush on your drake-friend.”
Apple Bloom took a second to process that before sighing.
“Why is it that all of a sudden every other mare wants a piece of that dragon?” she muttered.
“You’re not mad?” Scootaloo looked surprised.
“Oh, I’m furious,” the other filly snorted in a rage, “but… I kinda blew up at Trixie earlier today, and I don’t want to deal with two ruined friendships in one day…”
“Did you wanna talk about it?” Scootaloo offered.
Apple Bloom opened her mouth to begin, then shook her head.
“Wait a minute, we’re not here to talk about that!” she snapped, “Why in Equestria do you have a crush on my Spike?”
“It just kind of happened, ok!” the pegasus shrugged, “I mean, one minute we’re talking about our families, the next we’re-”
“Wait, what?” Apple Bloom rounded on her friend, surprised, “You actually talked about your family with him? You’ve always told Sweetie Belle and me that you don’t like to talk about that kinda stuff!”
“It’s complicated, alright?” Scootaloo sighed, “He understood, is all I can say. He knows what it’s like to be…” the filly looked away, muttering under her breath, “…ignored.”
“What was that?” the other filly raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing,” Scootaloo shook her head, “I swear to you, I didn’t plan for any of this to happen. It just… kind of did.”
Apple Bloom stayed silent, looking at the various knickknacks on the shelves as she composed a response. She had to think this over. A part of her wanted her to be angry, but she recognized that was just the pent-up frustration that had erupted early, compounded with her being angry at herself for yelling at Trixie. In truth, what she felt beneath the anger was… relief. Apple Bloom hadn’t felt comfortable with her relationship with Spike since it began, upset by the taint that surrounded it from Starlight Glimmer’s heartbroken consent. The filly had wanted the relationship to be over almost as soon as it had begun, unable to fully enjoy it as guilt and second-guessing withered away whatever genuine emotions had been there. She couldn’t end the relationship, though. Not after destroying the relationship between Starlight and Spike, leaving him no options.
Yet, here now was a fresh option. Scootaloo could take up the farm filly’s place…
“You believe me, right?” Scootaloo’s voice cut through Apple Bloom’s thoughts.
“Uh, hey,” the earth filly cleared her throat, “Would you… would you like to date him?”
“What?” Scootaloo looked even more confused. Suddenly, her wings stiffened a fraction and she blushed, avoiding eye contact. “I, uh… I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed to sharing him, I-I guess, but isn’t that sort of an old pony tradition…?”
“Sh-share him?!” Apple Bloom blushed even more vividly than the pegasus had, “Hay no! I meant- I meant, if you could date him, would you?”
“Oh,” Scootaloo chuckled nervously, “I wouldn’t want to do anything to betray your trust.”
“Let’s pretend he and I broke up,” Apple Bloom explained, her cheeks returning to normal, “Let’s pretend it was civil and consensual. Now, if you knew I was alright with it… would you?”
“Why are you asking?” Scootaloo asked after a moment, “Does this have something to do with…”
“With what?” Apple Bloom asked.
“Well… you two haven’t been hanging out as much, and I got the impression you’re both getting distant from each other.”
“I hate to admit it, but it’s true…” the farm filly grunted, “I ain’t too interested in a relationship at the moment, at least not with Spike.”
Scootaloo tilted her head at that. Not with Spike? Was there someone else?
“Dating was a huge mistake, to be honest,” Apple Bloom sighed.
“Do you still love him?” Scootaloo asked.
“I mean…” the earth filly thought about it. Her heart ached at the thought of being away from him, and she couldn’t help but remember all of the warmth she had felt being around him growing up, “Yeah… on some level, anyway. But I can’t deal with a relationship right now, and I don’t think he can either. Am I wrong?”
“W-why are you asking me?” Scootaloo was almost as bad at lying as Applejack was.
“Besides Trixie, I reckon you’re his closest confidant,” Apple Bloom chuckled, “I’m sure he’s mentioned it.”
“He… he needs time to figure some personal stuff out,” the pegasus confessed.
“Alright then,” Apple Bloom inhaled sharply, walking out of the store. Stunned, Scootaloo quickly followed.
“Wait, what are you going to do?” she asked.
“I’m going to mare up and tell him the truth,” Apple Bloom held her head up high, showing the same resolve her sister did when unpleasant work needed doing, “It ain’t fair to either of us to keep playing around like this.”
Scootaloo wanted to protest, but Apple Bloom silenced her with a sad smile.
“Relax, Scoots,” she said, “this had to happen. It’s not your fault.”
Scootaloo opened her mouth before shutting it again, nodding once. She followed the farm filly outside to their destiny.
Spike was outside, waiting patiently. He looked a little concerned, but whether that was from being left alone or from the stares passersby were giving him was any pony’s guess. He perked up when he saw them approach, but frowned at the serious nature clinging to the fillies.
“Spike,” Apple Bloom said sternly.
The dragon eyed her expectantly, anxiety filling him. She sighed, relaxing a little. There was something soothing about that out-of-place boyishness in his mature physique. She felt her heartstrings tug again, and then the familiar guilt… No, this was the only way. Right?
“I think we need some time apart,” the filly finished.
They locked eyes, and in that simple gesture they both understood. Nothing needed to be said.
“Alright then,” Spike nodded, not breaking eye contact, “Are you sure?”
“Let’s be honest with ourselves, Spike,” Apple Bloom shook her head, smiling sadly, “with the way things are… with all we’re going through… it won’t work between us.”
“And when things calm down?” Spike asked, “When we aren’t so… distracted?”
The farm filly looked up, past Spike and to the darkening sky. The sun was low on the horizon now, and the moon would crest in the east soon. A new moon, too. It would hardly be visible, except as a black circle in the sky, and yet the fact it was a new moon held symbolic value. The moon did not have a new dawn every day, unlike the sun. There were still fresh starts, still chances. They just took a little longer.
“Maybe,” she confessed, softly, “I think we both need some time and space. I think be both need to figure some stuff out.”
“Yeah,” Spike nodded agreement, “I’ve been meaning to tell you… I plan on going to the Dragon Lands, soon.”
“Then I reckon this came at a good time,” Apple Bloom snorted, “Good a time as any, anyhow.”
“True,” Spike chuckled, a low noise that sent chills up both fillies’ spines. He scratched his chin in thought. “You, uh… you don’t mind if I bring along a friend, right? It seems kind of in bad taste, given how we just broke up.”
“Is it Scootaloo?” Apple Bloom rolled her eyes when the pegasus tried to shrink.
“How did you-” Spike began but stopped at Apple Bloom’s ‘how dumb do I look?’ expression, “Right, I guess it is kind of obvious. Is it fine?”
“I ain’t your filly-friend anymore, Spike,” the yellow filly laughed, “You can hang out with as many mares as you want. I ain’t gonna get jealous. I mean, I ain’t gonna ask you for permission to hang out with stallions. Wouldn’t be fair one-way, now would it?”
“Makes sense,” Spike stood up, stretching, “I think Celestia will be beginning the festivities soon. All the ponies are heading for the center of town, and I remember Celestia usually retires shortly after the sun sets.”
With nothing better to do, they followed the crowd to the center of town. Ugly stares were thrown at Spike and Apple Bloom in equal measure: one for being a non-pony who stood out; the other for being a known supporter of the Republic. Scootaloo felt uncomfortable, but stayed by her friends. She saw Sweetie Belle with a group of Empire socialites, garbed in finery and levitating a glass of fizzy fruit juice. The unicorn spared a look at the pegasus, a glimmer of their friendship still there. It disappeared quickly, Sweetie Belle choosing to ignore them rather than join in the socialites’ sneering. Scootaloo sighed, wondering if Apple Bloom would have done the same had the pegasus been beside Sweetie Belle instead.
They stopped and looked up at the wooden edifice that had taken all day to construct. Despite being constructed of lumber, hay, rope, and wicker, it was artfully crafted. The likeness was almost uncanny. Spike suppressed a shiver; it reminded him at once of both Nightmare Moon and the timber wolves. That was a frightening idea.
“My little subjects,” Celestia’s voice filled the city center, immediately quieting the murmur of the crowds.
All eyes were drawn to where the alicorns had arrived by chariot from the direction of the castle. The Empress of the Day wore a surprisingly tame outfit compared to her usual gaudy dresses of late. It was different from her Empress armor, made up of orange-red plates that seemed almost reminiscent to the armor worn by the wooden likeness of Nightmare Moon. Almost, yet different. Beside her stood Luna, still wearing only what she had always worn. Near them were the guests from the Crystal Empire and a thoroughly distressed-looking Flam.
“My niece, the wise and noble Princess of Love and unquestioned ruler of the Crystal Empire, has arrived to partake in this most somber of holidays,” Celestia explained, “She’s even brought her heir, the young Flurry Heart! Truly, an auspicious occasion worthy of celebration.”
The gathered ponies brightened at this apparent relieving of tension. Things had been growing too frigid and wound up, as if gearing up for some horrible event, and no pony was eager to have a repeat of the riots that had caused so much damage in so short a time. Suddenly it felt as if a collective weight had been lifted off of all their shoulders.
“I have a little ritual planned before we allow the festivities to begin,” the Empress of the Day chuckled, her eyes blazing orange for only a split-second, “Cadance, if you’d be so kind as to swear your fealty to the Empire and me?”
Cadance took a tenuous step forward and prepared to recite the old oath before Celestia stopped her.
“The old oaths are all well and good, but I was thinking of something more… lasting,” the eldest alicorn smirked as her horn glowed. A pair of golden bracelets etched with burning runes appeared in a burst of magic. “I shall gift this jewelry to you, as a token of our familial love. I would appreciate it if you wore these while taking your oath, so that whenever you look upon them in the future you will think back to this moment when we were… bonded.”
Cadance relaxed a little, smiling at the sentiment. Celestia smiled slyly as Cadance willingly placed the bracelets upon her forelegs. Compliance was imperative. The Princess of Love gasped in astonishment as the bracelets sealed, the clasp appearing seamless.
“Now,” Celestia sighed, contentedly, “your oath to the Empire, please.”
“I, Princess Mi Amore Cadenza of the Crystal Empire, hereby swear upon my royal title, my honor, and my alicorn blood, to serve and obey the Empire of Equestria, and the decrees of its rulers, Empress of the Day Celestia and Empress of the Night, Luna.”
Celestia’s smile fell just a tad at that. She had forgotten that Luna was still regarded as a co-regent by her naïve niece, just as she had forgotten Cadance would likely refer to the Solar Empire by its proper name. Oh well, nothing for it. The oath was still binding in ways the young alicorn couldn’t even begin to understand.
“Excellent,” the Empress of the Sun breathed out, so quiet it was almost a hiss.
She returned her attention to the crowd of her subjects, eyes briefly scanning the twilight they found themselves in. To the west the sun was setting, blazing orange on the horizon; to the east, the blackness of the shadowed moon was beginning to appear. It would not be long before she had to retire for the night and her sister had to depart for her duties.
“My subjects!” Celestia boomed with her Royal Voice, surprising the other alicorns, “Tonight is the anniversary of my sister Luna’s corruption at the hands of a most cunning and malevolent spirit! She was beguiled by the promises of power whispered to her by a demon!”
Luna tensed up, looking around anxiously. The ponies in the crowd shifted in a mix of discomfort and fear. Celestia measured it all, reading the crowd.
“Some might say she was not in control, not in her right mind,” she continued, “but I know this demon. I have had a thousand years to study it, and I know that while it does consume its host…” she paused for dramatic effect, “…it must first be let in.”
The ponies in the crowd were silent for a moment, processing the implication. Their eyes widened and several Lunar Republic supporters cast dubious glances on the mare who had inspired their regime, reevaluating their loyalties. Celestia struggled to suppress a smirk of triumph as Luna shrunk back in shame.
“Of course, this is not a sign of weakness,” Celestia continued. She blinked, surprised the words had left her lips with such conviction. They weren’t planned. They had slipped out, against her wishes. Luna looked at her with surprise and affection and, for a moment, the older alicorn felt her will about to unravel. No! She had to finish this!
“T-to commemorate the vanquishing of treasonous thoughts,” Celestia resumed her speech, though she felt some of the power had been robbed from it, “we shall burn this effigy of the traitor Nightmare Moon! We shall perish all thought of betrayal from our minds, and remember this night for what it is: the anniversary of a horrendous mistake and a painful tragedy!”
Raging internally at how her lapse in conviction had nearly ruined everything, Celestia seethed as she ignited the wooden likeness of her sister with her magic. It caught instantly and the ponies reeled back at the sudden explosion of light and heat rolling over them. The Imperials cheered at the sight while those loyal to the Lunar Republic inched away in horror. Celestia panted in an effort to calm herself, then spared a glance over her shoulder at Luna. The younger Empress gaped at her burning likeness, tears welling in her eyes, before making eye contact with Celestia. The well of hatred in Celestia’s eyes was unbearable.
Luna left with as much dignity as she could manage, trying to hide her humiliation. Celestia took a moment to compose herself and fix her mane before heading back towards the castle. Cadance placed herself in front of her path.
“How could you do that to her?” the princess demanded, “She is you best friend and your sister!”
“Step aside, Cadance,” Celestia sighed, in no mood to deal with her, “I must get my sleep. Besides, she knew what I was planning.”
That was a lie, but her niece didn’t know that.
“I just…” Cadance looked conflicted, “even if she did, it doesn’t feel… right.”
“Step. Aside.” Celestia repeated, her eyes flashing orange for a moment.
Cadance opened her mouth but paused, dumbfounded. A flash of orange flickered in her eyes before she complied. Celestia trotted past her before she could recover. Once she did, Cadance lifted a hoof to her head, blinking as if she had just awoken from a stupor. Her eyes trailed after her aunt in surprise. Shining Armor and Sunburst looked equally unnerved, but they stayed silent.
Cadance’s eyes drifted up to the burning effigy. She grew even more disturbed at what she saw. Wreathed in flame, wood whitening with ash, the statue which had clearly been Nightmare Moon now appeared as some sort of fiery version. Powerful, domineering, blazing like the sun… The mental image smacked of a premonition, but she couldn’t place or interpret it.
Looking at the sun set and the moon rise black, the stars blotted out by the firelight, Cadance felt that something else was coming; something not as bad as whatever plagued her dreams, but something imminent.


…


Luna held onto what little dignity she felt she had left until she was secluded in the castle. Once secure in her room, the Empress of the Night collapsed in dismay, crying in full. She tried to bury her face into a pillow to suppress her heartbroken shrieking, but she knew no pony could hear her, anyway. Her and her sister had put soundproofing spells around their respective rooms centuries ago so they could gossip with ladies-in-waiting in peace.
It still didn’t make the crying any easier.

She hates me, Luna thought to herself. The idea that Celestia was possessed by the foul creature which had taken her had been appealing for a number of reasons, chief among them that after Celestia was freed, their subjects would quit looking at Luna as the only one susceptible to such things. They’d finally be equal in the eyes of their subjects!

But instead, there was a new possibility – seemingly confirmed – that Luna hadn’t dared consider: that Celestia simply hated her. It explained the older sister’s change in temperament, her aggression, her disdain, her cruelty… Yet it was so unlike her. No, Luna steeled herself. There was absolutely no way that Celestia hated her. Luna had more faith in her sister than that. This was the same Celestia who held out hope for a thousand years that Luna could be saved. The least she could do was return the favor.

Standing tall and drying her tears, Luna looked at the New Moon rising in the east. She steadied her breathing and opened the portal to the dream world, feeling her powers flush strong on her night. She allowed herself a smile of confidence.

“I shall do my duty,” she said to herself, “first, as a leader of Equestria; then, as a sister.”

With that, she stepped into the portal and left the world behind.


…


Celestia flung her gaudy, multi-horned crown across the room, only slightly pleased that it shattered against the far wall. Flam cowered in a corner nearby, properly cowed. The alicorn seethed.

How did she get a word in? the Empress of the Day asked herself.

It was a strange question. There was only the one voice inside them, wasn’t there? Certainly not two voices in one body. That would be insanity, wouldn’t it? But there were two distinct voice within her, one dominant and one suppressed. Two minds locked in a one-sided battle. They both called themselves Celestia, but one was lying. Sort of… She could feel it all squirming inside her, trying to physically change her, trying to turn her into something greater, but not yet!

Not yet…

She had Cadance in hoof, but there were still the Elements to deal with. Everything was so tiring… The alicorn retired to her bed, calling on Flam to join her. The unicorn came to her side and she gripped him with her forelegs, slamming both of them onto the soft pillows. Flam squirmed a little in her grasp, but she felt sleep begin to take her.

“E-Empress,” Flam said, “y-your armor is hard, and its edges are biting into my skin whenever I move… Also, it’s very hot…”

“The armor doesn’t come off,” Celestia murmured, “and if it only bites into you when you move, then don’t move. As for it being hot, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Flam blushed despite his fear and pain. He hadn’t meant ‘hot’ in that way. He hadn’t any of those kinds of thoughts in days, his fear for and of Celestia ruining anything sensual. In truth, he meant the armor was literally hot – a slightly low, burning sensation. Not enough to do damage or even burn the fur of his coat, but enough to cause discomfort.

Come to think of it, her flesh was hotter than the armor. Was the heat coming from her, and not the metal plates? Flam turned his head around as far as he could, ignoring the metal cutting into her coat. Celestia was already fast asleep, looking peaceful, but…

Is this really the mare I fell in love with?


…


Trixie sighed in defeat, staring up at her wagon. It wasn’t just stuck in a tree – it had fused in a tree!

“Oh, be careful with your teleportation spells, Trixie!” the magician mocked Starlight’s advice from a few months earlier, “You don’t want to wind up stuck inside a wall, or something!”

The unicorn grumbled in annoyance, levitating a saw out of the equipment that had fallen out of the wagon. It wasn’t too bad, all things considered. After all, one of the branches could have been fused inside her. As she set about the task of freeing her wagon, she also allowed herself a small smile of pride. She had teleported her wagon – her whole wagon! – several miles outside of Canterlot. Had Twilight ever teleported something so large so far?

“Maybe she’ll be impressed,” Trixie had a genuine smile at that thought, but it fell as her usual lack of confidence struck, “Or maybe she won’t believe me. Trixie has not always been entirely honest…”

A sound caught her attention. Confused, Trixie looked around and noticed the sound came from multiple directions around the mountain Canterlot was built upon. As it grew, she realized it was at least two distinct noises. The louder noise was a strange rumble similar to thunder, while the second noise was almost like a buzzing, but deeper. The more she listened, the more noises she could hear: roaring, chanting, cheering, battle cries, clanking metal, war songs…

The magician hid in her wagon, peaking out of her window and waiting for some evidence as to what was happening. She got her answer almost immediately. The largest herd of yaks she had ever seen was converging towards the mountain, being drawn in from long trains and columns coming from every conceivable direction, like snakes linking together into a ball. The night sky, already dark from the New Moon, grew brighter as armored griffons reflected the light of the torches carried by the yaks. The landscape looked like a nightmare.

The hills were alive with movement, a great horde of roaring and chanting yaks charging up the mountain with abandon, illuminated by raging flames. The sky crawled with armored forms flitting back and forth, as if it were a canopy of insects, their outlines a blur of movement and shadow. The entire spectacle seemed almost demonic and was made all the worse by the lumbering, lurking forms of dragons breaking through the masses.

Trixie felt her mouth dry up as she tried to figure out what to do. She wasn’t confident she could teleport back to Canterlot, and even if she did, what could be done? By the time she got there, the city would already be under attack. No, the only sensible thing to do was to try and get help. Trixie scanned the horizon, her eyes picking up the occasional plume of fire-lit smoke in the distance. She felt her heart in her throat as she looked towards Ponyville. There were plumes of smoke, but she judged by the distance and the size of the town that the damage was probably minimal.

As she prepared to teleport there, the magician hoped the damage was minimal.
> 23
> --------------------------------------------------------------------------



23
Nightmare Night


Twilight looked over the stretch of land the Orduud army had come out of. It was a quagmire of the bizarre and pure destruction. Twilight and the other unicorns had unleashed a torrent of magical bolts into the sky, pegasi had blitzed through the air, and the earth ponies had fought with all their strength. Ultimately, though, there was no contest. The Orduud pushed the ponies back with their numbers, but in the space between the retreating ponies and the approaching Orduud, the Elements of Harmony and Discord had combined forces and unleashed the combined powers of friendship and chaos.
The result had been a kaleidoscopic wave of energy that transformed the landscape into some sort of warped reality. The sky rained chocolate milk from cotton candy clouds, but each drop stuck like tar on impact. Griffons and dragons plummeted from the skies as their wings grew heavy and stuck together, landing on the yaks below. Intense light of every hue imaginable had spread out in rainbows of power, knocking yaks from their hooves and blowing their herds backwards in tumbling masses. The ground beneath them transformed between liquid and solid intermittently, encasing dozens of the Orduud. Some managed to keep themselves from sinking, but their ranks had been thoroughly thinned.
Those still capable of fighting were shell-shocked, looking around at how they had fallen to so few in an instant. The ponies rallied and charged in, trouncing the last of the Orduud. It had taken only an hour. More time had been spent imprisoning the captured soldiers, rescuing those buried underground, and treating the seriously injured. After hours of such labor and ensuring the town’s security, the alicorn had returned to the battlefield to inspect the damage.
“It’s quite lovely,” Discord’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked up and saw him floating just above her. “I’ve created many kinds of landscapes as a being of chaos, but I’ve never had the ability to create such a thing with others. I never thought my first collaboration would be with the same Elements that saw me encased in stone.”
Twilight said nothing, turning her eyes back to the landscape. The Spirit of Chaos wasn’t wrong about the beauty. The ground was fluid, the grassy flooring rolling like waves, ponds of liquid chocolate pouring skyward like a lava lamp. Starlight glinted off of pink clouds, and everything was suffused with a multi-hued aura, like an insect’s wings or soap bubbles catching the light.
“Can you fix it?” she asked.
“Maybe,” he confessed, “but maybe not. I’ve never created something with others. I might not be able to return it to normal myself, and even if we worked together, there’s no guarantee it could be fixed,” he smirked, “Chaos magic is unpredictable.”
“That figures,” Twilight snorted, “Forget it, then.”
“Really?” Discord’s eyes widened, “You’d actually let my work stand in Equestria?”
“Just this once,” the Princess of Friendship smiled up at him, “You did help defend the town, and it’s a nice commemoration of the battle.”
Discord chuckled gleefully. Finally, the fuddy-duddy bookworm could appreciate true genius! His laughter died when he noticed her frowning.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Should I add some Prench fry wind chimes? It is a little dull without some kind of musical accompaniment, isn’t it?”
“It’s not that,” Twilight had to suppress the urge to laugh at the idea, forcing herself to be serious, “This can’t be it. There’s no way the Orduud only sent this many warriors this deep into Equestria… Either there’s a larger army preparing to attack us, or there’s another target…” she squinted, scanning the horizon, “There are fires in the distance, and a huge glow to the east…”
Discord was about to say something when he heard a bamf! above him. Looking up, he barely had time to move before a screaming Trixie fell past him and onto Twilight’s back. They both yelped at the impact, and the noise attracted most of the other Elements.
“What in tarnation?” Applejack asked as she approached with the others. Only Rainbow Dash was absent.
“Trixie?” the Princess of Friendship grunted from under the other mare, “What are you doing here? How did you get here? I thought you were in Canterlot!”
“Trixie teleported herself here to warn you…” the magician mumbled in pain, picking herself up from the pile and helping the alicorn up.
“Wait,” Twilight’s eyes widened, “you teleported all the way from Canterlot?”
“Sort of,” Trixie blushed, “She got angry and teleported her wagon into a tree just outside of the city, then teleported several times to get here.”
“That’s amazing!” Twilight giggled, bringing the magician in for a hug, “I’m so proud of you!”
Trixie’s face heated up and her mind went blank for a moment. The severity of the situation, however, caused her to put her desires aside for the moment.
“Listen, Twilight,” she said, pushing herself free, “I had to get here to warn you! There’s an army of yaks, griffons, and dragons attacking Canterlot as we speak! They’re coming from every direction, and Trixie fears that most of the city-states around us have been attacked!”
The others gasped at this information. All except Twilight. All this did was confirm her worst fears.
“Hopefully the Empresses can hold them off until we get there,” Rainbow Dash said as she arrived with Gilda in tow.
Trixie tensed at the approaching griffon, eyes wide in fear.
“Relax,” Gilda sighed, rolling her eyes, “Rainbow Dash already grilled me about this Orduud business, but I helped defend Ponyville and all the captured griffons are calling me a traitor.”
“Captured griffons?” Trixie raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, dear,” Rarity smiled proudly, “We defeated a mighty host of those hooligans and showed them what for!”
“Well, it was mostly out Element powers and Discord’s weird magic,” Pinkie Pie clarified, “but every pony – and donkey, and zebra, and Gilda – helped out, of course.”
“That’s amazing!” Trixie directed her gaze at Twilight rather than the others. Her expression fell when she remembered what Rainbow Dash said earlier, though. “I don’t think the Empresses will be of much use tonight… Luna has probably already entered the dream world, and Celestia has fallen asleep.”
“So?” Rainbow Dash laughed, “She can’t sleep through an invasion!”
“You’d be surprised…” Trixie murmured, “Celestia slept through the riots, and her policies… Trixie would rather not talk about it.”
“It will take us forever to get there, even with a train!” Applejack said, “Well, except for Rainbow Dash…”
“And don’t forget how quickly Trixie got here with her teleportation!” Pinkie noted.
“Discord, do you think you can teleport all of us there?” Fluttershy asked.
“Normally, yes, but I used a lot of my energy helping you defeat just one army!” the draconequues explained, “I could teleport us there, but after that I might not have enough energy to put up a good fight.”
“Even with your powers, this army will be difficult…” Trixie warned Twilight, “They have thousands attacking the city. Trixie thinks Cadance might help, though.”
“Is she in the city?” Twilight blinked. She rubbed her chin in thought. Cadance would surely wake Celestia, so that was already two alicorns. If they could get word to Luna, she could leave the world of dreams and help, too. “Trixie, how tired are you?”
“I can’t sleep at a time like this!” the unicorn gaped.
“I need you to warn Luna about all of this,” Twilight explained, “I’m going to put a sleep spell on you. Are you alright with that?”
“Only if it’s you,” Trixie tried to give an encouraging smirk despite being terrified. They were under attack, and Twilight wanted her to sleep?!
Twilight nodded once, part of her mind trying to see if that had been some double entendre while the majority of it focused on the spell. With a brief flash of purple magic, the blue unicorn fell asleep. Twilight caught her from falling and laid her down, gently. Smiling, the alicorn gingerly moved a lock of silver hair out of the other mare’s face, lost for a moment. Suddenly aware of everyone looking at her, she straightened up, blushing.
“Er… I guess we just wait,” the Princess cleared her throat.
As the seconds turned into minutes and tension grew, their cadre began dispersing to attend to other tasks to distract themselves from the unbearable suspense. Canterlot was very likely burning and they had no way to get there. Soon, only Twilight, Fluttershy, and Discord remained. The others needed to find something to work out their anxiety, but Twilight could not leave Trixie in her state. Discord was regenerating his energy, while Fluttershy stayed out of both the desire to be near Discord, and her nurturing nature wanting to ensure Trixie’s health.
“How will Luna be able to help us, exactly?” the pegasus asked at last.
“She has the ability to travel great distances through the world of dreams,” Twilight explained, “From my understanding of dream-walking, it is strenuous to do so without some sort of anchor.”
“Anchor?” Discord asked, resisting the urge to conjure a ship’s anchor. He had to conserve his energy!
“A fixed point that allows for an easier portal,” Twilight explained, “For instance, wherever Luna usually enters and exits her dreams is one. If we can manage an anchor here, then it should be easier for her to ferry us to Canterlot with her…”
She looked at Trixie, hoping that somehow the unicorn could act as an anchor. How was the magician doing in the world of dreams? Was she alright? The alicorn forced herself to remain calm and have faith that Trixie would succeed.

…

Trixie screamed as she descended through landscape after surreal landscape. They rushed by her at great speed, the thoughts and feelings of dreamers screaming into her mind as she plummeted through their most intimate fears and desires. Gruesome, horrifying nightmares flashed by her only to be replaced by kingdoms of such beauty and grace as to astonish, and back again. Mundane realities blended with unrealistic impossibilities that bent her mind, and all vanished with a blur as she continued her descent.
How do I move?! she screamed in her mind, How do I stop?!
Then, all at once, she was saved.
Trixie blinked. She was warm and felt a presence curled around her that promised security. Sunlight filtered in with birdsong from an open window in her wagon. No, not her wagon, she realized. It was larger, colored different. The magician noticed her form was much smaller, that she had become a filly once more. Startled, Trixie looked up and saw the figure embracing her was her mother.
Was this a dream or a memory?
“Perhaps a little of both,” her mother suggested, but it was not her mother’s voice. Slowly the form shifted into Luna. Trixie lost her foal-hood, and the wagon disappeared into the familiar landscape of the castle. “Why have you been sent into the realm of dreams so unprepared?”
“Un-unprepared?” Trixie repeated, blinking and looking around, “How could you tell Trixie was sent and not just asleep?”
“The world of dreams is like a night sky,” Luna explained, “Every dream is like a star, hanging in a void of darkness. If you had been dreaming, you would have simply been within a single star. Instead, I found you screaming through multiple stars like a comet.”
“I see,” the magician chuckled in embarrassment.
“There is no need to feel embarrassed,” Luna smiled affectionately, “It is actually quite impressive you did not go insane from the experience or get trapped in some pony else’s dream. I believe you might have a talent at dream-walking.”
“Is that… common?” Trixie frowned.
“For a pony to enter this realm without proper training is extremely dangerous, and to do so without even a concept of what to expect is even more so,” Luna said, evenly, “Your soul wanders these dreams – not merely your consciousness. If something should happen to you here, it will affect your very being. This is no more dangerous than living in the waking world, except that in this realm the impossible becomes possible. Any manner of dangerous things can happen here, all outside of your control.”
“The risk you take must be enormous,” Trixie gaped, “Your body and soul are here, night after night, entering ponies’ dreams!”
“There are dangers, yes,” Luna chuckled at the compliment, “but my talent ensures a mastery over dreams that keeps me safe from nearly all instances.”
“Nearly all?” the magician asked, raising an eyebrow. The Empress of Night looked away, crestfallen.
“There was a dream, once…” Luna muttered, “It wasn’t… natural. It had a sentience behind it, yet it flowed like any other dream. It whispered promises and made reality out of my wishes. In a moment of weakness, I allowed myself to be enraptured by that dream until it consumed me.”
“Nightmare Moon…” Trixie breathed out, eyes widening.
Luna only nodded. A somber moment passed before the alicorn smiled to lighten the tension.
“We’ve gotten off-track,” Luna said, “Why did you come here in such a reckless fashion? How did you manage it?”
“Twilight used a sleeping spell!” Trixie blurted, remembering the gravity of the situation, “Equestria is under attack! Canterlot is surrounded by a massive army of yaks, griffons, and dragons!”
“WHAT?!” Luna roared, rearing onto her hind-legs and flaring instantly with silver moonlight, “The cowards choose to strike at the heart of our lands while my sister rests and I am away?! They think the cover of night will shelter them, but night is mine to command!”
“T-Twilight needs your help,” the magician said, awed and terrified of the mare before her, “W-we need some pony to help transport us to Canterlot, to help defend it! With four alicorns, Discord, and the Elements of Harmony, there’s no way they can win!”
Luna calmed her fury into smoldering coals fit to burst aflame at the right opportunity. She nodded once to Trixie and harnessed the power of this night – the darkest of the cross-quarter nights, resting between the autumn and winter equinoxes. The new moon, too, helped lend some strength to her abilities, though it was the springy energy of youth rather than the raw potency she’d get from a full moon. Still, it would be difficult to open a physical portal away from her usual point of entry.
Her eyes drifted to Trixie and she felt an idea strike her.
“Your physical form is in Ponyville, yes?” the alicorn asked.
“Yes,” Trixie nodded once.
“I feel I must ask your permission before I do this, but I wish to give you a gift,” Luna explained, “a sort of marker, a magical spark from myself for you to carry. It will aid us in the creation of a portal without putting too much strain on myself.”
“A part of you?” the magician looked overawed, “inside me? That’s amazing! Does it give me cool powers, aside from the portal?”
“Now that you mention it, it should help you by acting as a reservoir for magic related to dreams, the night, and illusion,” the alicorn smiled despite the situation, pleased to have a pony so interested in this gift, “but there are other effects…”
“Such as?” Trixie frowned.
“When I originally imbued this blessing in subjects, it was given to pegasi who wished to serve in my Guard,” Luna explained, “They became the first thestrals, and passed the gift onto their offspring. I’ve created several more thestrals since my return, but I have never gifted this to unicorns or earth ponies. I do not know what kind of physical changes will happen, or even if it will improve your powers.”
Trixie looked conflicted for a moment before her features hardened in resolve. She stood taller, though Luna could feel the fear radiating through her.
“To save Equestria, I’ll do it,” the unicorn said. She smiled, then, a mixture of bleak resignation and forced confidence. “Make Trixie great and powerful.”
Luna gave an encouraging smile that didn’t reach her eyes, her horn lighting up with indigo magic. There was a flash of light…

…

Sweetie Belle ran through the streets of Canterlot, lost in the fear of the mob and unable to navigate. The socialites she had become friends with had abandoned her almost instantly once the attack had begun. The unicorn filly let loose a stream of colorful expletives that turned a few heads even as the ponies gawking tried to run for their lives.
Overhead a legion of griffons filled the sky, coming down in waves to pluck helpless ponies up and drop them from great heights. Twice the unicorn filly had teleported herself out of the way of screaming ponies slamming into the pavement like a morbid rainstorm. The buildings were being set alight by massive dragons, their fire illuminating the city in multi-colored flames. Through the press of panicked mares and stallions, Sweetie Belle could see the large, shaggy silhouettes of yaks, their forms obscured by the bright heat haze of the inferno taking the city. It was like something from a nightmare.
Sweetie looked up and saw Cadance holding back the griffons with an umbrella of pink magic, allowing ponies to flee towards the castle while Shining Armor tried and failed to rally the Imperial Guard. For whatever reason, the new stallions of the Guard ignored the unicorn’s orders with sneers and only focused on protecting the Princess and her daughter. If the filly could reach the protection of the shield…
She screamed as a massive scaled form barred her path. Falling back on her haunches and trying to cover herself with her forelegs, it took her a moment to realize the dragon was talking to her. Blinking, she looked up and recognized Spike with Scootaloo and Apple Bloom clinging to his spines.
“Sweetie Belle! Hop on! We need to get out of here!” the dragon was saying, cringing at the horrified screams the ponies around him gave as they ran past him. Perhaps it was a good thing the guards weren’t attacking; they would surely target him!
“Where could we go that’s safer than the castle?” she asked, hesitant to climb on his back.
“Out of the city, duh!” Scootaloo said.
“No way!” Apple Bloom argued, “We need to get to the Lunar Republic’s headquarters! The army is there!”
“Oh yeah, like those volunteers who have trained for two days can stand up to this,” Spike scoffed, “We’re getting out of the city. Your sisters will have my hide if I let anything happen to you girls!”
“Who put you in charge, you overgrown-” Apple Bloom began before the dragon reared up, suddenly. She yelped as she struggled to cling onto his spines.
Out of the sky another dragon descended, jaws open and aimed at the fleeing ponies. Spike opened his own jaws and the fillies shielded their eyes as a jet of green flame bellowed from his gullet in a stream of heat and light. The other dragon snapped her mouth shut, trying and failing to dodge the blast. She screamed in pain as the fire caught and hung onto her scales. Her flight stuttered as she shot skyward, spasms shaking her the whole way. She slammed through the cloud of griffons, and Spike’s green flame caught on them, spreading with every contact they made. Sometimes the flames guttered out quickly, but some plummeted to the ground, screaming as they burned, rolling in the streets to put the fire out.
The fillies gaped at Spike in a mixture of fear and awe, and the drake himself blinked in surprise at his power. He looked down at Sweetie Belle again, unsure what to say, but she only galloped around his hind-leg and hopped onto his back, joining Scootaloo and Apple Bloom. Ponies made a wide berth as he ran away from the castle. They were almost out of the city, taking detours to get around the fighting and hordes of yaks, mostly unmolested as the griffons failed to realize the running dragon wasn’t on their side. Eventually they ran into a stretch of city where the Imperial Guard fought a losing battle against the Orduud army and blocking their escape.
“Dragon to our rear!” the officer managing the defense screamed. A line of guards in the rear of their formation began to turn, bearing spears.
“Wait, I’m on your side!” Spike held up his claws.
“It’s true! He’s trying to save us!” Sweetie Belle shouted over his shoulder.
“Lady Sweetie Belle?” the officer stayed the soldiers, but looked skeptical, “How do you know you can trust this… dragon,” Spike suppressed a snarl at the emphasis the officer had put on the word ‘dragon’ as if it were a curse, “For all you know, this beast is taking you to his own kind! What loyalty could he possibly hold for us?”
“Girls, get off my back,” the dragon said.
“Shouldn’t you be telling him that?” Scootaloo scowled at the stallion officer.
“Now, please,” Spike requested, soft yet firm.
The fillies hopped off his back. The officer watched the dragon warily as he approached the fight on all fours. The soldiers stepped out of his path, slowly, unsure of his intent, but with weapons poised. Finally, Spike jumped over the heads of the forward rank of soldiers, landing amidst startled yaks. He stood as tall as he could on his haunches and even his friends’ eyes widened, for they had never seen him at his maximum height. Without the buildings of Canterlot for comparison, Spike appeared as a tower ten times as tall as the largest yak. He opened his maw and gave a fearsome roar, unleashing a well of green flame into the sky that forced the griffons to part or suffer immolation. The battlefield stilled as all eyes were drawn to him.
“My fellow non-ponies!” the dragon greeted his kindred, “Stop this assault at once! Why are you attacking the city anyway?”
The Orduud soldiers looked at one another as if he had asked a trick question, but before any of them could answer, three dragons descended from the sky and approached Spike. He instantly recognized Garble and, much to his horror, the Dragon Lord’s staff clutched in the other dragon’s claws.
“Because I ordered them to!” Garble stated with a scoff. He held the staff up and sneered. “See this? I’m the Dragon Lord, now.”
“What happened to Ember?” Spike demanded, the fury and threat in his tone giving even Garble pause, “I swear, if you hurt her-”
“You’ll what?” Garble countered. He calmed slightly. “Relax, dweeb. She’s fine. She was too weak to lead, so we removed her from power. She’s with all the other losers, now.”
“So, not only have you attacked the ponies unprovoked, but you turned on your own kind, as well?” Spike didn’t bother to hide his disgust, “I thought your group was supposed to protect non-ponies, not make things worse!”
A few of the soldiers shared uneasy looks, remembering the recent schism in the Orduud all too well. The yaks, especially, grimaced at the betrayal of their prince.
“We are protecting them!” Garble shouted back, “We’re protecting them from the things that make them weak! From stupid pony ideas! They turned you into a weakling, and I refuse to see any other dragons brought so low!” Garble raised the staff, snarling as his eyes became reptilian slits, “I’ll turn you into a real dragon! You need to grow up and ditch these losers, and you’ll start with those stupid fillies! Roast them!”
Spike felt himself turning to face the Crusaders. He tensed all of his muscles and fought the command with every fiber of his being. Slowly, painfully slowly, his movements stilled. His body shook with the effort of resisting the command, and he found himself staring at the terrified fillies. The thought filled him with self-loathing – the idea that his closest friends secretly feared what he was and didn’t trust him.
He didn’t realize it, but they were terrified for him, not of him.
“What the heck?!” Garble snarled in a rage, “Roast them! Obey me, you stupid pony-lover!” slowly Spike began to move again, “Yes! That’s it!”
Only, the drake was turning away from the fillies. Garble blinked in shock, the reptilian quality leaving his eyes as fear overrode the darkness gripping his heart.
“No!” the older dragon roared, “No, no, no! There’s no way! You have to obey me!”
“I…” Spike strained against every muscle in his body, “I was… born under the eyes of the Princess of the Sun, raised by the Princess… of Friendship…” his control grew greater, his movements more fluid, “I saved an Empire and helped vanquish a King… I befriended the Changeling King before he was even a prince, and I am friend to the true Dragon Lord!”
Garble felt himself take a step back as Spike stood before him, only now realizing that the purple drake was far taller than him or his lackeys.
“I have spent my entire life surrounded by royalty and leaders worthy of respect,” Spike came face to face with the shorter dragon, smirking, “You. Are. No. Lord.”
Garble’s mouth worked furiously as he tried to come up with some retort, rage and fear bubbling over.
“You two!” he snapped to his dragon henchmen, “Kill him!”
The dragons moved to do so when a griffon soared out of the sky and threw himself between the two dragons.
“Stop this, Garble!” the griffon snapped, “Just let him and the fillies go! We don’t have time for this.”
“Who asked you?!” Garble snapped.
“We have to take the castle soon, or we’ve lost!” the griffon growled out, “Cadance is too weak to hold us all off, but if Celestia wakes up or Luna returns, we can’t win!”
“Yes we can!” Garble retorted, “I refuse to be beaten by pastel-colored weaklings!”
Spike turned around and started returning to Canterlot, the soldiers parting with less reluctance than before. The officer still eyed him warily, but said nothing as he reached the fillies.
“Wait! Get back here, whelp!” Garble snapped.
“What are you doing, Spike?!” the griffon demanded, earning a questioning glance from the dragon.
Spike turned his attention back to the fillies.
“Sorry, girls,” he chuckled, “but I can’t leave yet. I’m strong enough that I can actually help fight! I can’t run away while the city is under attack…”
“Well, shoot, if you ain’t running, then there ain’t no way I’m turning tail!” Apple Bloom stood tall.
“And that goes double for me!” Scootaloo grinned.
“You better believe I’m staying!” Sweetie Belle giggled, “They torched my sister’s boutique! It must be avenged!”
The dragon opened his mouth to argue, then sighed. He knew it would be pointless. He gestured to his back and the three hopped on, clinging to his spines as he ran back into town. He batted squadrons of yaks aside with his tail and filled the sky with green flame, sending dozens of griffons to the earth. By the time he reached the castle proper to join the resistance there, he was already tired from exertion. A mass of yaks, griffons, and dragons tore away at the ranks of pony soldiers standing before the castle. Spike barreled his way through the Orduud, making a show of his strength and tossing clusters of enemies vast distances away from the castle. Despite seeing this, many of the Imperial Guard leveled their spears as he approached.
“Wait!” Cadance called weakly, drawing eyes from the Guard. Her shield had been shattered and she was being shielded by Shining Armor and several volunteers from Luna’s militia willing to follow his orders where the Imperial Guard had simply ignored him. She managed to stand. “Let him in; he is on our side.”
The ponies reluctantly parted and the tired drake trudged into the mix of Lunar militia and Imperial Guard. They seemed to be making a last stand at the gates of the castle where, presumably, the civilians were taking shelter. Spike nodded a greeting to Night Bane as he passed, and was surprised to see Starlight near him.
“Starlight?” he shook his head, “What are you doing here? You’re a civilian!”
“I’m also the commander-in-chief of the Lunar Republican Army,” she smirked, “Look at you! Saving your filly-friend and two more fillies to boot! You must take after Twilight’s brother.”
“Oh, Apple Bloom and I broke up,” Spike said, nonchalantly, earning a death glare from the earth filly on his back.
“Oh?” Starlight beamed, sounding hopeful. She noticed Scootaloo scowling a challenge at her from the dragon’s back and her expression slackened. “Oh. Seriously? Another one?!”
“What?” the dragon asked, confused.
“Nothing,” Starlight tsked, “Now that you’re here, we should be able to hold out a little longer, but… I don’t know how long.”
“But, we have three alicorns here!” Sweetie pointed out.
“Cadance is exhausted,” Starlight explained, grimly, “She used up a lot of energy shielding ponies from the attack. Celestia is sleeping and these guards refuse to wake her, and Luna is in the dream world, unaware of what’s happening!”
“Isn’t there a way to go into the dream world and warn her?” Apple Bloom asked.
“I mean, I could cast a dream-walking sleep spell, but nobody here is trained in that kind of work,” Starlight grimaced, “It’s extremely dangerous to do it to anyone unprepared, and the chance of success is… limited.”
“Besides,” Cadance spoke up, “I’m afraid, even two alicorns might not be enough… The armies keep coming.”
“Not to mention the command structure here is seriously flawed…” Shining noted, “The Imperial Guard refuse to cooperate with the Republic soldiers, and they refuse to listen to me. They barely listen to Cadance!”
“I always thought the Royal Guard were competent?” Scootaloo tilted her head.
“The Royal Guard, yes,” Shining scowled, “but these tin soldiers aren’t the Royal Guard.”
“I don’t understand why Empress Celestia would fill her ranks with such arrogant and self-important snobs…” Night Bane muttered, “Practically the entire Guard has been filled either with snobbish elites or impressionable youths trying to imitate them.”
“What about Gutsy Gust?” Sweetie Belle asked.
“I haven’t seen him in days,” Night Bane shrugged, “but he was never one to speak out of turn. He and I might have our differences, but I refuse to believe he’s turned into one of these… oh, here one comes, now.”
An Imperial officer approached, saluting the Princess and ignoring everyone else present.
“The vile non-ponies have broken through the outer defenses,” the officer explained, shortly, “an even larger force will be joining the assault on our current position momentarily.”
“Here we go again…” Cadance steadied herself.
Within minutes the new horde of Orduud warriors charged to join the force already assaulting the castle walls. This force filled the streets and sky, blotting out everything with their numbers. Their war cries carried on, one into another, to the point where the air vibrated with a sustained, deafening tone. Ponies took their stances, bracing spears and readying bows. The bright-eyed, volunteer militia-ponies already looked like grizzled veterans after a few hours of fighting. Spike joined them, as did Starlight, Shining Armor, and Night Bane. Garble was in the mass of attackers, glaring hatred at his enemies. With a dismissive wave of his claw he signaled the assault.
The screams grew to a new height of intensity and the ponies tensed in anxiety. This was it. This was where they would fall, and with them all of Equestria and pony-kind would be subjected to the cruel whims of a war band driven mad by greed and hate. The realization crept into the souls of even the most condescending Imperial and optimistic Republican. Dreams of hegemony, dominance, liberty, equality – all became ash on their tongues. There was nothing left but to show bitter defiance until the end.
Then the air between the armies flared with silver light. It was soft, yet intense, but not so much as to blind. From a rip of black and indigo, 8 mares – one taller than the others – a griffon, and an amalgamation of creatures appeared. The assaulting force halted as six of the mares ascended into the sky, golden jewelry decorating their colorful bodies. The Orduud grew silent, too shocked to reconcile how quickly the tables had turned. The world exploded with multi-colored light as the Elements of Harmony unleashed their combined magic upon the hateful horde.
A bubble spread outward, pushing the yaks to the ground, the griffons from the sky, and tossing dragons aside as though they were ragdolls. It struck with such force that hundreds of warriors could not get back up, many simply groaning where they lay. Then the Elements were back on terra firma, galloping into the broken army – six against thousands – without even considering the risk to themselves. In sequence, Luna, Spike, Starlight, the Crusaders, the militia, and the Guard joined them.
The Empress of the Night ascended into the heavens, calling on powers of the night to her command, bringing darkness down upon her terrified enemies. It was Nightmare Night, and she played her part as its patron. A wrathful, righteous angel of the night, she cleared the sky with baleful shadow, and tore into the ranks on the ground with burning starlight. The Orduud quickly grew more terrified of her than they had been of the Elements of Harmony.
Then there was Discord.
The draconequues warped reality with every step, turning griffon weapons into binding serpents, the ground beneath yaks hooves into quicksand, and the fire of dragons into harmless bubbles. His silly antics seemed harmless enough compared to the damage meted out by the others, but his ability to make the Orduud powerless instilled a helpless fear within the hearts and minds of the warriors. Despite his whimsy and the lightheartedness of his attacks, Discord seeded dread and a sense of worthlessness in his opponents, lowering them to the status of an insect before a god.
Garble readied himself to belch flame on Starlight who was leading the Lunar militia from the front. As he opened his gullet, he heard a hiss and saw a flash of blue and silver strike him in chin, making him swallow his fire. Coughing, he looked at the strangest unicorn he had ever laid eyes on: a blue mare with a silver mane, smirking with too-large-canines in her mouth, and tufts of fur on her oddly-shaped ears. For a moment, he mistook her for a thestral until he saw her horn.
“I don’t know much about ponies,” he said, rubbing his bruised chin, “but I can tell you’re some kinda freak.”
Trixie grimaced but relaxed when Starlight joined her.
“You two girls think you can take me?” Garble snorted, “I’m the Dragon Lord!”
As he held the staff high, Trixie’s horn glowed. The staff turned into the largest serpent they had ever seen, trying to wrap itself around the dragon’s arm and sink its fangs into his scaly hide. Giving a shrill scream, Garble tossed it aside, shaking his head when he saw it turn back to the staff. Before he could reach for it, it disappeared beneath the milling herd of ponies and yaks fighting in the streets, lost from sight. He turned back towards the two unicorns, growling in rage at Trixie’s smug grin.
“You think you can trick me, you little worm?” Garble seethed.
“Well, illusion magic does work best on the weak-minded,” Starlight noted, smirking.
“I’ll kill you!” Garble’s eyes turned into slits again, fire coming up from his throat. A griffon descended from the sky and shielded the ponies. Once more, Garble turned his head skyward and let loose with his flame. He looked down, stunned. “Gabby?! What the- I thought you were back in Griffonstone?! What the heck are you doing here, trying to get roasted again?!”
Gabby shifted form into Pharynx and the dragon grimaced.
“Dude, that’s creepy,” he said, “Why were you pretending to be Gabby?”
“I noticed you tried not to kill her,” Pharynx explained, “so I had a hunch you wouldn’t fire on me if I looked like her.”
“I-I totally would have,” Garble avoided eye-contact, “Why are you protecting these two, anyway?”
“Because we’re his friends,” Trixie said.
“Pharynx, what the hay are you doing fighting with the Orduud?” Starlight was horrified, “I thought the Changelings were neutral!”
“We are!” the Changeling King said, then frowned, “I mean, Thorax and the others are, I…”
“You betrayed your fellow changelings?” Trixie asked.
“No!” Pharynx seemed horrified, “I-I was trying to help them! I-”
“Look!” one of the Imperial officers shouted, drawing eyes, “A changeling is working with the Orduud!”
“That’s the Changeling King!” a soldier said.
“They’ve betrayed us!” another voice joined in.
“So much for keeping your dweeby brother out of this,” Garble muttered.
“No!” Pharynx took a step forward, flinching back as an arrow nearly shot his hoof, “I-I swear, the hive had nothing to do with this!”
“Hold on!” Starlight ordered, her rank assuring that the militia-ponies would stop firing. They, in-turn, kept the Imperial Guard from attacking, though neither faction was too happy with such restraint.
“It’s too late!” a griffon officer pointed out the pacifist dragons Garble had enthralled flying away, free from his control, “We’re losing warriors, and there’s no way we can stand against these champions!”
“Don’t be such a wuss!” Garble snapped, but the griffon didn’t even flinch; instead, he sneered. “Show me some respect!”
“When you are worthy of it, perhaps,” the griffon muttered. He turned his attention to Starlight and Trixie, “I’m withdrawing the griffons from this fight. The yaks will, likely, follow suit. Garble, however, is the Lord of the Dragons. Do I have your word you will not run us down?”
“My word?” the pink unicorn gaped.
“You are the commander-in-chief of the Lunar Republic, yes?” the griffon tilted his head, “That is what our intelligence led us to believe.”
“I am, but most of the soldiers here aren’t under my command…” Starlight explained, weakly.
“You’re running away?!” Garble was outraged, “Just like that?!”
“Look around you, oaf!” the griffon snapped, “Your control over the dragons is gone, half of our attacking force has broken – either their resolve, or their bodies! – and I will not be responsible for any more casualties! Ember and Rutherford were right; this was a mistake!”
Garble snapped his jaws shut, sulking. Pharynx was still horrified at how his actions now implicated his people in the invasion. The griffon returned his attention to Starlight after surveying their continuing defeat.
“I beg you to show restraint,” he pleaded, “We can discuss the terms of surrender later, but allow us the time and space to escape!”
“I… suppose…” Starlight looked conflicted. She didn’t like the idea of giving the invaders the opportunity to flee and regroup, or to escape punishment. She didn’t like the idea of letting them be run down and destroyed, either. Perhaps it had all been a mistake by their leaders?
“I will remember this,” the griffon bowed his head, “If you are ever in Griffonstone, ask for me. My name is Gustav.”
“Just don’t go too far,” Starlight said, “we still need to discuss terms of surrender.”
“Agreed,” the griffon looked at the horizon, “We shall retire a mile outside the city’s walls. If we stray further, then your forces can still catch up, especially with us slowed by our wounded. Is this fair?”
“What about the other Orduud armies?” Trixie demanded.
“Ah, yes… those…” Gustav sighed, “I have no means of contacting them… They do not have orders to come here, though; they are to stay in the territories they’ve liber- I mean, conquered.”
“Then I can’t vouch for their safety,” Starlight’s face was as unrelenting as stone.
“I understand…” Gustav bowed again, “I can have my forces pull back within the hour. Garble? Will you do the same with the dragons and help me convince the yaks?”
The dragon grumbled something that was close enough to an affirmative.
The two flew off, a distracted Pharynx following close behind. The soldiers jumped forward, outraged, both Republican and Imperial.
“You’re letting them go?!” one Imperial demanded.
“They are retreating,” Starlight explained, “With my authority as the President of the Lunar Republic, I am ordering all forces to stand down and allow the Orduud to retrieve their wounded and make camp within one mile of the city. If they go beyond that, we will attack. They have agreed to negotiate terms of surrender.”
“We do not answer to the President of the Lunar Republic!” the officer snapped, “Stallions! Prepare to run those beasts down!”
“Belay that,” Luna’s voice cut in like a knife, stalling the fight, “The Equestrian Empire shall entreat with the enemy, as well.”
“B-but, Your Majesty! The invaders-” the officer began.
“Have made a grave error,” Luna nodded, “one that has cost them hundreds of warriors and the mistrust of the most powerful nations on the planet. However, destroying their leaders and thousands more non-ponies will not win the war; it will only serve to further sour relations between our peoples. Make no mistake, my little ponies: they will pay for this betrayal, but we will not be made the villains this day. We must be above our enemies.”
The arrogance of the Imperial soldiers seemed to erode with each word the Empress spoke, and they bowed as one, properly humbled. They eyed her with a level of reverence usually reserved for Celestia alone. Luna noticed the Lunar militia-ponies had bowed, too, the same look in their eyes. She had mixed feelings about their near-worship. The Empress spared a nod of appreciation to Starlight before issuing orders for the Guard to follow her.
“Wait, I thought we were going to negotiate terms of surrender!” Starlight said.
“We shall,” Luna said, pleased that Discord, Spike, the Crusaders, and the Elements of Harmony had arrived to their sector, “However, there are still remnants scattered throughout Equestria. Discord, I would like you to stay here with the Elements and most of the Imperial Guard to ensure the Orduud army neither attacks, nor escapes. Keep my sister and niece safe.”
“You realize I am an independent operative, yes?” the draconequues raised an eyebrow, smugly. Fluttershy spared a pleading look at him and he rolled his eyes. “Oh, alright.”
“Starlight, I need you to help Trixie teleport to the next city-state,” Luna explained.
“What?” the President looked at her friend and only now that the immediate danger had passed did she notice the changes, “Wait, are you a… thestral?”
“Close, but not quite,” Trixie laughed, her canines glinting.
“I imbued her with a piece of my essence, as I did with the original thestrals,” Luna explained, “She will act as my anchor in the dream world, allowing me to teleport an entire army from city-state to city-state. Your army, commander-in-chief.”
The Lunar militia snapped their hooves together and saluted as one, following Luna’s order to muster and gathering as many of their kind as they could. Starlight was baffled by the suddenness of it. There were nearly a hundred of them still in fighting order by the time they had all gathered. A lot, but was it enough? Luna looked skyward to track the stars and estimated there were only a few hours before the sun rose.
Better make them count.
“Are you ready, Starlight?” she asked.
“As ready as I can be,” the unicorn noted, anxiously, “Ready, Trix?”
“Er… just a moment,” the magician tensed, suddenly.
“Really?” the President furrowed her brow, “You were so brave just a few minutes ago, and we were being attacked by, like… a hundred yaks! What the hay could be so terrifying that you need a moment to-”
“Twilight!” Trixie said suddenly, unable to even look at the alicorn.
“Er… yes?” the Princess of Friendship jumped a little in surprise from nearby.
“Trixie was… wondering…” the unicorn struggled, face absolutely crimson, “if she survives, would… would you like to…”
“Oh, for the love of…” Starlight face-hooved, “Twilight, would you like to go on a date with Trixie when we get back?”
“That’s no fair!” Trixie snapped, “How would you like it if I asked Spike out on a date for you when you got back?!” The magician blinked and covered her mouth.
“Trixie!” Starlight growled.
“I-I’d say,” Twilight said, blushing as much as the dragon near her and her friends; she offered a smile, “don’t die.”
“That goes double for me, Star,” Spike chuckled.
Thoroughly embarrassed, the two unicorns disappeared in a flash of magic. As soon as they were gone, Scootaloo and Apple Bloom both turned and bucked the dragon in his shins.
“Ow!” he howled, startling the other ponies as he fell forward, unable to stand on his bruised legs, “What was that for?!”
“For being blinder than a mole in a coal mine!” Apple Bloom scowled, trotting away with her head held high in offense.
“Man, dragon skulls really are thick!” Scootaloo followed her friend, head lowered in simmering anger.
Sweetie Belle stayed behind, politely covering her mouth and trying not to laugh.
“What’s so funny?” the dragon glared up at her.
“Oh,” the unicorn giggled, “nothing.”
Within a few minutes the city section was cleared out except for Spike, Sweetie Belle, Twilight, and Rarity.
“So…” Twilight said, finally, trying to avoid looking at her former-ward while simultaneously studying his increased size, “…you’ve grown!”
“And… you haven’t,” Spike rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly.
Silence stretched on, so Rarity seized the opportunity to defuse the tension with her sister.
“Oh, you look absolutely lovely in that dress!” the older unicorn giggled, “It is simply a crime that it has gotten so tarnished from all this muck! Wherever did you get it?”
“It was a gift from Sassy Saddle so I could impress the elite of Canterlot,” Sweetie Belle smiled as she struck a pose, then frowned, “It might actually be the only surviving dress from the shop.”
“Excuse me, what?” Rarity’s mouth dropped open.
“They torched the store,” Sweetie explained, “Twice, actually. Once during the riots, but that wasn’t too bad, and just now with the invasion. Sassy wasn’t hurt, though I heard they had to force her out of the store because she was trying to shield to dresses with her body.”
“That foolish mare,” Rarity sighed, though honestly she would have tried the same thing, “Her life is more important to me than some dresses,” she leaned down and drew her sister in for a hug, “as is yours, Sweetie Belle!”
After a heartfelt hugging, Rarity broke contact, tearfully and dried her eyes. Once calmed, she looked back at Spike, then back to her sister, suspiciously.
“Wait… you’re not in love with little Spikey too, are you?” she asked.
“Little?” the dragon repeated.
“Too?” Sweetie Belle gaped, “Wait, are you in love with Spike?”
“What? No!” Rarity looked as if she’d been slapped, then looked abashedly at the dragon, “Sorry, Spike, that came out wrong. You know you’ll always hold a special place in my heart; just not that place.”
“At this point that’s actually kind of a relief to hear,” Spike chuckled.
“Sweetie Belle, you still haven’t answered me,” Rarity chided.
“Oh no, I don’t share my friends’ tastes,” Sweetie giggled, waving a dismissive hoof, “I have a crush on Rumble.”
“And… you’re comfortable just admitting that?” Rarity asked.
“Yeah,” the filly smirked, “I never understood why everyone else tries to cover up their feelings. I mean, if everyone just came out and said what they meant, then Spike wouldn’t be in such hot water with his filly-friends.”
“Apple Bloom and I broke up!” Spike countered, “Wait? Filly-friends?”
“Scootaloo was right about dragon skulls,” Sweetie murmured under her breath then blushed at the glare Rarity shot her.
“Spike, I think we should talk,” Twilight said at last, “I’m… sorry I haven’t responded to your letter yet.”
“Oh,” the dragon said, avoiding eye contact, “It’s alright. I know it’s probably an awkward topic…”
“Not at all!” the Princess smiled, startling her former ward, “I was actually very touched by you calling me ‘mom’! I just… I wasn’t sure how to react. I wasn’t prepared for it, and I wasn’t sure what to say, but… I appreciated it a lot.”
“So, I can call you…?” Spike left the word unspoken, feeling his throat tighten with emotion. Twilight was just as incapable of talking, only able to give a small nod and a teary-eyed smile.
“How precious,” Rarity teared up as well.
“Spike, I forgot to mention that I did some research on dragon legends when you left,” Twilight said, forcing control into her voice, “and one of them… disturbed me.”
“Thurdojun?” the dragon guessed.
“Wha… how did you know?” the alicorn looked flabbergasted.
“Luna loaned me Cinder Crisp’s journal,” Spike explained, “it’s the only dragon legend I can think of that would be enough to disturb you.”
“She gave you Cinder Crisp’s journal?!” Twilight gasped, “Oh my gosh, that’s amazing! Cinder Crisp set the groundwork for all of modern pony research in regards to dragons and their culture, and you get to read his hoof-writing! Ah! I’m so jealous!”
“The Thurdojun?” Spike reminded her, smiling at her nerdish distraction.
“Right…” Twilight blushed, “I… had a dream about it. Before I’d ever heard about it.”
“Really?” Spike looked surprised, “One of those weird alicorn visions? Luna mentioned something about that stuff during our political courses.”
“I’m not sure it was a prophecy,” Twilight suddenly slumped, “I hope it wasn’t… I saw who the Thurdojun is.”
“It’s not Garble, is it?” the dragon shuddered at the thought, “I thought it might end up being Ember, but I hoped it wouldn’t be. Garble would be even worse!”
“In my dream… you were the Thurdojun,” Twilight explained, “and you were huge!”
Spike took a moment to process that before bursting into thunderous laughter that startled the two mares. Sweetie Belle rolled her eyes as they practically cowered, having long grown used to Spike’s new volume. The dragon chuckled as he dried his eyes with a massive claw.
“I might be larger, but there’s no way I could be the Thurdojun,” he said, “I mean, me? Lead the dragons? Against the ponies? I was raised by ponies! I might have been the Dragon Lord for, like… two seconds, but I gave the staff to Ember. Leadership isn’t my style, mom.”
There was an awkward pause as both dragon and alicorn adjusted to that word. It felt weird actually giving the concept voice, despite both of them agreeing it was alright to use.
“Well, son,” Twilight’s encouraging smile faded quickly, “I’m just telling you what I saw. I’m worried you might have to fulfill some greater destiny that might put you at odds against the ponies.”
“I mean… I have been feeling the need to return to the Dragon Lands, but…” Spike shook his head, horrified, “I can’t! If that’s my destiny, I-I can’t follow it! I don’t want to fight you guys!”
“Maybe the legend doesn’t tell the whole story, or maybe it doesn’t mean fighting like that!” Twilight tried to placate both her and Spike’s fears, “Maybe it’s just misinterpreted?”
“I don’t want to risk it…” the dragon looked close to heartbreak at the idea he had some inescapable destiny that would see him fight everything he loved.
“Spikey,” Rarity spoke up, “remember when you tried to resist the call of the Dragon Lord and all that pain you suffered through? I don’t want to send you into danger, especially with how awful those Orduud brutes have been, but I don’t think Twilight or I want to see you suffer for resisting your calling. If you stay true to yourself, then I am confident you will fulfill your destiny without harming us.”
“And I wouldn’t worry about getting hurt,” Sweetie beamed, “You singlehandedly took out, like, a hundred yaks and griffons! And you resisted Garble’s commands!”
“What?!” Rarity and Twilight cried as one, both looking close to fainting.
“Y-you could have died!” Rarity gasped out.
“You fought?!” Twilight twitched anxiously, “Were you hurt?! Did they hurt you?!”
“I’m fine!” Spike held up his hands, defensively.
“I’m fine too, thanks,” Sweetie deadpanned.
“Sorry, Sweetie Belle,” Rarity smiled, sheepishly, “How about we get out of this sorry state of a street and try to find somewhere more… aesthetically pleasing. After all, we should have a lovely background while catching up, don’t you think?”
“I couldn’t agree more,” the filly beamed, “See you later, Spike!”
“It was lovely to see you again, darling,” Rarity waved to her erstwhile admirer, “We’ll have to catch up soon, alright?”
Spike waved back to them as they left, then returned his attention to Twilight. The awkward tension between them was fading fast, their respective affection for one another helping overcome their recent setbacks. Twilight allowed herself to take the dragon in, no longer trying to avoid eye contact. He was so large, now… so grown. A part of her still feared the dreams she had had, but while Spike had grown, he was not the monster from those visions. No, he was somehow noble in bearing, radiating a calm command and humble pride. There was more than a little contradiction in the observation, but it fit.
“You’ve really grown up…” Twilight smiled sadly.
“I still have a lot of growing to do,” Spike returned the expression, “But not yet. For now, let’s just sit here and talk for a little while.”
Twilight’s smile was happier as she nodded agreement.

…

The moon was resting on the horizon by the time Trixie opened the portal to Las Pegasus. The magician slumped, supported by an equally-exhausted Starlight Glimmer, both panting as they caught their breaths. Luna ripped out of the portal with a war cry, a legion of pony volunteers charging after her, screaming in fury. Trixie managed a cold smile as she watched the unsuspecting Orduud soldiers camping in the ruins of a casino lurch in surprise before being swarmed and brought low by the sudden army in their midst.
Las Pegasus was the latest in a line of city-states liberated west of Canterlot. In each of the city-states, Lunar militia had been tasked with both guarding captured Orduud soldiers and galloping to the aid of neighboring city-states. For every militia-pony they lost to guard duty or relief efforts, however, a dozen more angered ponies from each city-state took up arms and joined the Empress of the Night on her counterattack. Starlight wasn’t sure how many were actual Republic-supporters, but there was something stirring about seeing so many ponies united in liberating their homeland from tyrants.
“I’m not sure I can take any more of this tonight, Starlight,” Trixie huffed beside her friend, “I know you’re the one carrying the brunt of the magic, but being Luna’s anchor is…”
“I get it,” Starlight managed a grunt that was supposed to be a laugh, “I think the Lunar Republican Army can hoof it from here. All we have to do is return to Canterlot, and the Imperial Guard will take care of the Orduud to the east.”
“I hope, so…” Trixie confessed, “You don’t think every pony city-state was attacked, do you?”
“I doubt it…” Starlight knitted her brow in thought, “From what we’ve seen, it seems like the Orduud just sent one massive army at Canterlot, splitting up into smaller groups along the way. I’m assuming they attacked from Griffonstone, thanks to Garble… If that’s the case, then the city-states east of Canterlot – including the overseas ones – might not have even been attacked.”
“So we’re doing all the work?” Trixie grimaced.
“Well, the Imperial Guard can still liberate Saddle Arabia, I suppose,” Starlight laughed, weakly, exhaustion catching up with her.
Luna returned within mere minutes, seemingly disappointed. The two unicorns could see that, behind the Empress, there was a small grouping of yaks and griffons being rounded up by the Lunar Militia. After the massive army that had ravaged Canterlot, all of the subsequent Orduud forces they encountered had seemed small by comparison, but this force numbered barely a dozen warriors, and not the healthiest looking ones. The further west they had gone, the smaller the forces encountered had gotten.
“Garrison forces,” Luna explained, “They were left behind to guard their conquests while the rest of their rabble moved towards Canterlot. I admit I was hoping for fiercer resistance to vent my fury against.”
“It’s probably for the best,” Starlight suppressed a yawn, “We should get back to Canterlot and see to the surrender of the Orduud.”
“Yes, we should,” Luna frowned as she saw the first touch of light in the east, “My sister shall wake soon. I would have words with her…”
Trixie and Starlight exchanged worried looks, not looking forward to a confrontation between the most powerful sisters in Equestria. With one final effort, Trixie and Starlight teleported to Canterlot, Luna following the anchor Trixie had become. So much further east, the sun had already risen. The dawn highlighted the destruction the Orduud had delivered upon the city in such a short span of time. Luna, usually so well at burying her sadness beneath righteous fury, scanned the burnt city blocks and toppled statuary of her home in anguish. Trixie and Starlight looked around in horror and awe, unable to process the level of destruction to the shining to jewel of Equestria.
All their eyes were drawn to the only building left largely unscathed, the castle itself. There, standing tall and defiant, sheathed in golden armor, was Celestia, glaring down with disgust at the ruins of her capital and the wounded of her army. Her eyes met Luna’s and the younger alicorn felt overcome with rage. With a brief gallop the Empress of the Night jumped into the air and flew to the balcony, landing mere inches from her sister, wings flared, teeth bared, and only keeping herself from snorting threateningly with supreme effort.
“Sister,” Celestia noted, dryly, eyes looking past Luna and surveying the destruction of Canterlot, “I am told you repelled the invaders.”
“No thanks to you,” Luna hissed, “or your Imperial Guard. These fools refused to cooperate with the other defenders or obey any orders!”
“Do not push me, Luna,” Celestia’s eyes flashed darkly for an instant, “I have just awakened to a destroyed city, a reduced army, a near-death niece, and an enemy camp a mile away. I do not need to add ‘angry sister’ to that list.”
“This all could have been avoided…” Luna grimaced.
“I confess,” Celestia’s coldness slipped for a moment, “I… I should have coordinated more with you.”
Luna looked back at her sister, hopeful. Was Celestia returning to her old self.
“Unfortunately, we must deal with the Orduud army outside our walls,” the older alicorn returned to her ironclad hostility.
“They’ve surrendered…” Luna spoke softly.
“Then they will come quietly as I lock them away in Tartarus,” Celestia smirked.
“They are non-ponies fighting for their peoples,” Luna looked horrified, “if anyone should be punished, it should be their leaders – not the commoners.”
“Would you say the same of the umbral ponies?” Celestia raised an eyebrow, “Were they not an entire people? They were rotten to the core. The few that weren’t locked away became tyrants, demons! Sombra? The Pony of Shadows?”
“That was different…” Luna said, her mind tickling with a memory, “they are cursed.”
“Cursed?” Celestia’s eyes twitched, dreamlike, “What makes you say that? There is nothing in our annals that speaks of them having any condition other than being what they are.”
“I’m not sure, I just… I remember knowing they were…” Luna paused, feeling her memories lapsing, flashing with cruel laughter and long years of isolation on an air-starved rock, “The point is, the umbral ponies are not like the yaks, griffons, or dragons. You yourself have sent peace missions to these peoples; I implore you, do not betray their confidence!”
“I also trusted the changelings, yet reports indicate they were involved in the attack.”
“The changelings?” Luna shook her head, “They’re neutral.”
“Not as neutral as we would have hoped, hm?” the Empress of the Day cackled slightly, unnervingly, “Very well, I promise I will leave negotiations with the Orduud to you. I’m sure you will act in the best interests of our people…?”
Luna narrowed her eyes at the elder alicorn, wondering what the angle was. There was something conspiratorial in Celestia’s eyes, some sort of fathomless depth to her plans and designs, as if a creature far older and malevolent than her sister was residing in that body, watching her, manipulating her. There was a cold familiarity between Luna and that creature, but the Empress of the Night refused to entertain the idea that her sister was possessed, especially now when Equestria needed to be rebuilt. Luna shuddered, breaking eye contact.
“I will see to it,” she said, uneasily, “the Orduud will agree to reparations, that is certain.”
“Oh no, sister,” Celestia’s smile held nothing pleasant, “they will agree to so much more than that.”
For the first time in a long time, Luna felt fear grip her heart.